Tainted Ties - Act Two: Rise & Decay
by Tony Mancosu
Summary: The sequel to Dark Shroud, takes place 12 years later. More dark and emotional, delves deeper into the characters and has some intense action. Key plot events and a few surprises await. What does it take to create the ultimate evil and resurrect the great Sith Empire?
1. Chapter 1

**ACT TWO:**

**Rise & Decay**

* * *

It has been 12 years since the battle at Muunilinst, and the galaxy is in an ever-growing state of decline. What initially seemed like a victory for the Republic was only a small taste of what the cartels had planned.

The seeming success of the bounty hunters in filling the void left by the Peacekeepers did nothing to slow the escalation of criminal activity. The cartels, implementing their own hired hands, posing as bounty hunters, catching their own men, profited either way, whether from bounties or from their own illicit activities. These credits gained were in turn filtered back into the cartels, allowing them to hire more hands and further expand their criminal empire. The Republic, on the other hand, footing the bill for every bounty and every incarceration, began slowly losing funds, leading to an increase in taxes, further diminishing the economy, and causing more citizens to consider a life of crime.

This surge in crime began gradually, but with each passing year the cartels grew more bold, eventually taking worlds and even entire systems under their control. The Hutts and Tekdaemons, working collaboratively, each had their own territories and managed to limit petty squabbling in order to keep their expanding empire intact. The military was forced to intervene on several occasions, but with a lack of Republic funds to bring it up to its former glory, had entered into several losing campaigns on multiple fronts, eventually surrendering many worlds over to the cartels rather than face extensive losses.

A few of the more wealthy landowners had taken it upon themselves to defend their territories, commissioning private armies in order to at least keep the cartels off their land. In some cases, it had proven successful, but in many, it had not turned out well. Eulian Tratzel, successful businessman and technological giant now thought to be the wealthiest man in the galaxy, had actually commissioned quite an impressive army to defend his many holdings on many systems, an army of which no one knew the true size. Gaining back worlds previously claimed by the Hutts, Tratzel's army received much notoriety, and their success led the Republic to take a particular interest.

The Jedi remained active on all fronts, but with the bounty hunters seeming to outdo them at every turn, the Republic's confidence in them had diminished, though there was never any shortage of work in such a chaotic time.

* * *

**-1-**

A busy night club on the Mid-Rim world Mharkhoros, the Sleeping Vornskr was host to a variety of patrons just out to have a good time. Mostly young locals, it was hardly a hotspot for criminal activity like many clubs and cantinas throughout the galaxy. The two bounty hunters entering, then, of course drew immediate attention from a few regulars. A short Gran, followed by a masked humanoid appearing to be female by build, approached the counter, attempting to flag down one of the bartenders. A few females, a Twi'lek, a Gran, and a human, seated at an adjacent table, were looking intently in the direction of the duo.

"Hey, are you a bounty hunter?" one of the females called out, addressing the Gran.

The Gran, looking behind him as if the question was directed at someone else, quickly realized it was indeed meant for him, and replied, "Well, yeah, of course!"

"So what brings you here? Are you on business, or do you have time to buy us a drink?" the Gran female spoke up, flashing him a flirtatious grin.

"Uh, I might be able to... ," he looked in the direction of his companion, who was busy still trying to get the bartender's attention. "Yeah, so... ," he swaggered over to their table, "what are your names?"

"I'm Ihla," said the Gran female, "and this is Yenni and Bre'va." She motioned to the two others respectively. "And you are?"

"Busy!" came a female voice from behind him, slapping him on the back of the head. "Will you _focus_? This isn't the time to be picking up cantina trash. There'll be plenty of time for that later."

One of the females, the human, hearing this and obviously offended, stood up. "_What _did you say?!" Slurring her words just enough to indicate she'd already had a few drinks, this could have explained her boldness. She made her way to the masked bounty hunter, staring at her confrontationally.

The bounty hunter took two steps forward, putting her masked face barely an inch from the woman's. "Okay, listen," began the masked one, "I'm not exactly having the best day so far, but it would _really _cheer me up to beat the crap out of a drunk _bimbo _such as yourself. In case you're wondering, I'm not afraid to hit a woman," she motioned up and down her own body, "so, if you'd like to put a smile on my face, be my guest, - oh, and your friends are welcome to join in - but if not, I suggest you _sit _your ass back _down_. _Now!_" She pointed in the direction of the table authoritatively as she finished. The female jumped back at this, and, after a brief assessment, decided she did not need to be the one to bring up this bounty hunter's spirits. Grabbing the Gran by the arm, the masked one proceeded to drag him back toward the counter, where a spot had just opened up. "I don't know why you waste your time with idiots like that, Nars," she said, shaking her head.

"I know, Karta, I'm weak," he replied, "and being a bounty hunter anymore is a real chick magnet!"

"Yeah, wish it was a decent guy magnet. There seems to be a shortage of those in the galaxy," she commented dryly.

"What about Ivis? I thought you two were-"

"I don't want to talk about it!" she interrupted. The bartender now stood before them, awaiting the end of their banter. "Uh, sorry... ," she started, then flashed a holo in front of him, a still of a seedy-looking Neimoidian. "Harritz Vesser, you know of him?"

The bartender studied the holo, then gave the club a quick scan. "No, never heard of him. Although, uh, that guy might know something," he pointed toward the back wall. She turned to see a Neimoidian bearing a striking resemblance to the one in the holo. Not saying anything, she pushed away from the bar and rushed toward him, Nars starting after her. Seeing the commotion, the Neimoidian caught sight of the two bounty hunters coming his way, and bolted.

_No! _They'd tracked this guy for three days already, and had come too far to let him slip away. He merged with the large crowd, pushing his way toward the rear exit. Karta moved quickly, shoving and yanking patrons, using them to gain momentum, or simply removing them from her path. Nars, trying his best to keep up, managed to squeeze in through the temporary walkway she'd cleared. The Neimoidian managed to reach the door, hurtling through it, but Karta was now close behind, with Nars trailing her. He continued down an alley, tossing a few waste receptacles in Karta's path, which effectively slowed her down enough to prevent her from closing in.

"Blast it!" she exclaimed, stumbling over one after successfully vaulting over another. It was clear the thug was not crazy about the prospect of being caught. "I didn't want to have to light you up, but you're not leaving me much choice!" she called out after the Neimoidian, who decided to continue on and take his chances. "Fine," she said with finality.

Aiming for the legs, not out of concern for the suspect but for the bounty, she let off a couple shots. The first whizzed past his leg, while the second fizzled out before it could leave the blaster's barrel, after which the blaster was unresponsive.

"Dammit, Nars, you were supposed to charge the power cells!" she griped.

"Crap! Man, I knew I was forgetting something!"

Out of frustration more than desperation, she took her blaster by the barrel and chucked it as hard as she could at the Neimoidian, not expecting any effect. However, the blaster did indeed make contact with the thug, solidly in the back of the leg, causing it to give out and him to crumple to the ground.

"Yes!" she cried in disbelief, pumping her fist in a small celebration. Karta wasted no time and jumped on the thug's back, pinning him, grabbing him by the tunic and slamming his head and shoulders hard into the duracrete for good measure. "Alright, dirtbag...," she started in, reaching for his hands in order to slap on restraints.

Before she could, however, he managed to get ahold of his vibroblade, plunging it into the side of her left leg. She cried out in pain, momentarily relieving some of the weight from that side, which gave the Neimoidian just the opportunity to rotate his body beneath her, backhanding her fiercely in the face. She fell back, allowing the thug to now move in on her, preparing to stick her again, this time in a vital organ.

"Karta!" Nars yelled, having just caught up to the two. Without thinking, he took out his blaster, pistol-whipping the thug in the back of the head, knocking him out cold. He didn't stop there, though, straddling the thug and striking him a few more times, not about to let up.

"Whoah, buddy! It's okay, he's not getting up!" Karta called. Nars abruptly stopped.

"Sorry, I," he started, panting, "I guess I got kind of upset. I don't like seeing you get hurt like that!"

She shrugged. "Part of the job. Besides, I have you, and you always come through for me in the end." Shifting her weight, she winced in pain as a sharp surge shot up and down her leg.

Nars looked at her with concern. "He got you good! We have to get you back to the ship!"

"Yeah, well let's get this guy rounded up first," she said, tossing him a pair of restraints, which he took and secured the Neimoidian's hands behind his back. Then, out of spite, he gave a well-placed kick to the unconscious thug's midsection. "Jerk!"

Once back aboard the ship, Nars helped Karta to a cot and began tending to her wound. He'd become rather well-versed in the art of medicine, leading the kind of life they had, especially with one of them being a wanted fugitive.

"Ugh, I _hate _this thing," she said, removing her helmet and shaking loose her long, wavy red hair. Now twenty-eight standard years old, she'd grown to be a stunning young woman, with sparkling blue eyes and a delicate face, hardened ever so slightly by the harsh reality of the world she lived in.

"Sorry I wasn't more help back there," Nars said as he applied an antiseptic to her wound. She winced as the burn set in.

"You _were_. You were there when I needed you most, and we _got _him!" she said reassuringly.

"Yeah, I know, but... well jeez, Karta, you're practically a natural at this stuff, and me, well I'm barely second-rate!"

"That's not _true,_" she scolded, "and you _know _it." He looked to the side. "We're a _team_, and this team wouldn't work without both of our skills."

Prodding her, Nars asked, "So what are my skills, exactly?"

"Oh, come on!" she protested, but, seeing his glum expression, she went on. "Well, you're a good pilot - when you're focused," she threw in, "you're good at fixing up my wounds." He let out a huff, rolling his eyes. "Hey - you've improved a _lot _since I've known you, in all areas. Remember that time on Beltrus? You were in top form!"

He did remember that time, and it was true. He'd managed to take out two thugs on his own, when they'd been outnumbered five to two. True, he'd gotten in a couple of lucky shots, but he and Karta _had _studied a little hand to hand together, and he'd achieved at least a minimal degree of proficiency. Maybe he wasn't horrible, like he felt sometimes, but he just wasn't everything he wanted to be.

"But you know the biggest thing?" she asked. "You're always there for me, and that keeps me going. Wish I could say that much for the guys I've dated."

After living a life of concealment for eight or nine years, she'd finally allowed herself to open her heart a little, and show her face, to a few select individuals. Of course, she'd never told anyone her real name, and she was very cautious about who she engaged with. She mostly regretted it, anyway, the few failed relationship attempts only bringing more uncertainty to her already complicated life. Her most recent interest was fastly turning out to be no different.

"So, you and Ivis are... ," he started, referring to the interest in question.

"I said I don't want to talk about it," she said absently.

"Oh. Fair enough." He hated seeing her down. Ivis had seemed like a really good guy, a former Peacekeeper turned bounty hunter, with no love for the Tekdaemons - or the Hutts, for that matter. It had almost seemed like destiny; they'd both started out on opposite sides but had somehow met in the middle. She'd even remarked about this on one occasion. Still, whatever the problem was, he couldn't imagine it being on her end. He didn't know what it was like to be in a relationship with her - nor did he want to; he'd always thought of her like a little sister - but she could do no wrong in his eyes. "Well, if you ask me, none of those jerks deserve you, anyway, Karta. I mean you're really smart, you have a good heart, and you're really beautiful, for a human."

She smiled at this. "Thanks. That makes me feel a little better." She let out a sigh of resignation. "I guess this lifestyle doesn't lend itself well to long-term relationships."

"Maybe not. But I wouldn't trade it for anything."

"Neither would I," she agreed, though she couldn't shake the feeling that when all was said and done, something was missing.

* * *

Deep beneath the surface of Xadox, a desolate world in the Unknown Region of Republic space, the sounds of a violent struggle could be heard. It was not a battle of life or death - at least not in intent, although if that was the outcome, then so be it. Rather, it was another exceptionally harsh, yet deemed necessarily so, training session of the unknown descendent of the Skywalker bloodline, the biological son of Vhinh Skywalker. The boy in question, barely twelve, stood locked in intense combat with a full-grown man, yet his instructor, none other than Darth Sceptaurus, was quite unforgiving despite this fact. They both wore loose-fitting training robes, but the man wore a mask of chrome, hiding his entire face and only showing a glimpse of a completely clean-shaven head in the back.

"Take the opening, you fool!" Sceptaurus reprimanded the boy, Sada by his side. "Had this been real, you'd have been decapitated by now!"

The training sabers they used, different from those used at the Jedi temples, would emit a mild - though extremely painful - electrical shock upon contact. So, while no limbs were lost, at times one would almost wish they had been.

"Guard, do _not _go easy on this boy! Take his head off! _Now!_" he ordered.

The masked guard's moves grew more forceful and abrupt, as the boy strained to defend against the vicious assault. Finally, the guard was able to break the boy's defenses, and came with a sideways slash, contacting right to the boy's neck. The strike, which normally would have left a sizable welt, initially caused his entire head to go numb. That was the easy part, as then he felt a building pressure, and in an instant the pressure had expanded to where his entire head felt like it would explode, like it _needed _to explode, if only to relieve a fraction of the crushing, throbbing wave of pain. The sensation caused a moment of distraction, and this was enough for his master to exploit.

"More! Don't let up!" he urged the masked guard insistently. And so, the guard continued the attack, striking him two more times in his moment of vulnerability, a slice to the right arm and a thrust to the gut. This proved too much for the boy's insides, as he then hurled his meager lunch, along with a slew of bile and stomach acid, right on to the middle of the training floor. This caused the guard to temporarily step back. At this, Darth Sceptaurus exploded. "Did I say stop?! This boy has shown great weakness, and it _must _be corrected! Continue!" Sada had been about to speak up, but stood down at the sound of his voice.

And with that, the guard reluctantly moved in for another merciless onslaught.

"It won't go away, boy," Sceptaurus taunted him. "So be in _control_! Only _you _can make it stop!" With this, another of the guard's strikes slapped the boy hard across the face, just as the sting from the previous headshot had begun to subside. The brief numbing sensation only serving as a reminder of the agony to come, he vehemently denied this with all his being, so when the first twinge of pain set in, his mind exploded, and he saw only red. An intense anger over-shadowed all other feelings, and now, rather than writhe in pain, he basked in it, _welcomed _it, in fact, for every ounce of it only served to intensify his anger, which he could feel coursing through his veins, and he unleashed it on the party unlucky enough to have brought it out. His training saber now propelled by his own dark power, two quick strikes sent his opponent stumbling back nearly three meters, and rather than follow through he simply launched the saber at the former aggressor, a square body shot taking him off his feet, then drew it back to his waiting grasp. He then dashed forward and pounced on the fallen guard, following through with a flurry of unrelenting strikes, battering him long after he had dropped his defenses.

The Sith lord looked on with a smile. "And _that_ is how it is done." he remarked to Sada, a faint smile crossing her lips.

"Impressive," she replied.

Allowing the attack to continue just a little longer, he finally raised his hand. "Enough. These men aren't free, after all," he said to the boy, who seemed to have just come out of a trance. "Clean yourself up, then clean up this mess. Then I want you to perform resistance training until your arms and legs are no longer functional. And no rations until morning," he added. "Let this remind you of your failure today." Sada, open-mouthed, blinked slowly as he said this. "Dismissed!"

Two more guards, wearing the same chrome masks and clean-shaven heads, came to gather up the other's body, whether unconscious or dead, it was not evident. Once the room was cleared, save for the two Sith, Sada turned to him.

"He is progressing well, wouldn't you say, my love?"

"Indeed, but he still has moments of weakness. This only stifles him."

She now chose her words carefully. "He is still young. Perhaps we should let it take its course."

He raised an eyebrow at this. "As it _will_," he said, now turning to study her. "But that wasn't your meaning, was it?"

"Forgive me, my lord," she began, using his formal title, "I only mean to say, perhaps we shouldn't push him so... allow his anger to be misdirected, at you or I. Furthermore, he _is _still a boy... and he's our _son_."

He nodded his head slowly, over-exaggerating as if expecting these words. Then he spoke sharply to her. "He is _Sith! _And he is not _my _son!" At this, she looked almost hurt.

"But he looks up to you as such," she rebutted, keeping her composure.

"As well he _should_, for I embody the true way of the Sith. Consequentially one of the last remaining examples, I'm afraid." He looked to her, speaking volumes.

"I am as _much _Sith as yourself, _love,_" she said with precision.

"Then question your motives, Sada! Your son, yes, but Sith first and foremost. And critical to our plans of conquest! There will come a time to relish in this great union we've conceived, but remember, these are his most formative years! Early adolescence, when emotions are intense and volatile, the best time to nurture these emotions, so that he may reach his full potential. Was your training any different? Or the training you give to our guard? I cannot begin to describe the horrors I've endured in my existence, and you have not seen the extent of my power. Would you deprive _our _son of that?"

Her eyes shifted down, avoiding his piercing glare. "No, my lord."

"Do not lose sight of our goal. Things may be working in our favor, but many factors still hang in the balance. We cannot afford weakness of any kind. Do you understand?"

"Your words have been well received, my lord."

"Good. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must contend with Zabra. He's been very vocal since our guard began pushing the Hutts out of our territory. I suspect this could cause problems for Eulian Tratzel."

Now her face sparked with curiosity. "So how do you imagine Mr. _Tratzel _will handle this matter?"

He pondered the question for a long moment. "We'll still need Zabra a while longer... perhaps it's time for a demonstration of our power. The Tekdaemon organization are no fools - Zabra knows this. They will not fight a losing battle, nor a long drawn-out campaign if there are other options. So, we make it look good. The Tekdaemons concede, urging the Hutts to do so as well. If, through all this, Mr. Tratzel should have acquired some... personal vendetta against the Hutt cartel - well, the Tekdaemons can hardly be blamed, can they?" He grinned.

"Brilliant, my love," she said, now regarding him with renewed esteem. "So do you think that will end our little 'Hutt' problem?"

"I'd bet our future empire on it," he said smugly.

"How could I have ever doubted you?" she said, now turning to face him, one hand slowly caressing his chest.

"Few make that mistake and live, my dear. However, I'll make an exception in your case," he said, pulling her roughly toward him, preparing to celebrate all their past and future deeds.

* * *

"Why can't I go with you, Master?" Jhanopellis Udo asked Jedi Master Vhinh Skywalker, not whining or complaining, but a simple inquiry. Vhinh regarded the young padawan, now fourteen, with the same respect he would give a full-fledged Jedi knight - or anyone else, for that matter; but Jhanopellis's character demanded that type of respect. Already displaying wisdom and maturity beyond his years, there was no doubt Jhan would shape up to be a powerful Jedi in time. If the Jedi master had to name a shortcoming in the padawan, it would be that at times he may have become too consumed in his training. Many times, at the conclusion of one of their sparring sessions, Jhan, upon being told, would stop as if coming out of a trance. When Vhinh would return, sometimes hours later, he'd find Jhan still practicing solo, the look of determination on his face indicating he was exercising his mind every bit as much as his perspiring body.

Jhan was always an overachiever; always looking for more to do. It was also apparent that Jhanopellis yearned to be deployed - much like Vhinh at his age, but not born of the mild streak of arrogance as in Vhinh's case, only a well-earned confidence in his ability and genuine desire to contribute - to serve the Order. The similarities, however, ended there. While Vhinh, gifted with strong force sensitivity by birth, had indeed trained hard, he'd accomplished some tasks with minimal effort that would stop many students in their tracks. As he got older, becoming more consistent and meticulous with his training, he'd reached new heights, already having surpassed many of his masters. Jhanopellis, on the other hand, with only average natural ability for a padawan, had excelled among his peers only through sheer will and dedication.

"I won't put you at risk, Jhan. Not at this stage of your training."

"I know you only mean to protect me, Master, but you place yourself at risk all the time, and sometimes I fear for you. I could help you."

Vhinh gave a warm smile, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I know you could, padawan, and you _will_, when the time comes. Follow the path that's been laid out for you, don't rush things - and you don't need to fear for me, Jhan. No matter what happens, I'll always be with you."

Jhan gave a slow nod, but the disappointment was evident, though he'd never say it. Perhaps a little break from the temple would do him good.

"Hey," Vhinh turned to him as he was leaving, "today's your day off. Why don't you see if Edala wants to go into town with you or something."

The boy did stage a small protest at that. "I planned on doing some research in the archives, Master."

"Being a kid once in a while isn't going to kill you, Jhan. Go on. That's an _order_."

Jhan bowed his head in compliance, giving Vhinh a wave goodbye as he saw him off.

Maybe his master was right. He knew he'd been pushing himself a lot, and he was getting really edgy. It was just that, with everything going on in the galaxy, he felt it his duty to try to make a difference - and he knew he could, if only in a small way. He almost felt guilty sometimes, partaking in frivolous activities while beings were dying on other worlds. Jhan - and the Jedi, for that matter - couldn't be everywhere, he knew, and it wasn't as if he didn't enjoy a little time off now and then. His life just seemed to lack purpose, and he had so very much to give.

Deciding to take his Master's words to heart, he made way for Edala's quarters. Long time best friends, the two had been almost inseparable since early childhood. Edala, a Mirialan one year older, had made him feel welcome when he'd graduated from the cub level and joined her class at the age of five. Jedi training had gone through many changes throughout the years, and had finally come to a more simplified version of the old ways. A youngling became a padawan once inducted into the order, with no initial trial to pass, but it was up to the discretion of the master to determine at what point they were ready to be deployed, entering combat situations. A padawan's master was their personal mentor throughout their years with the order, at every level of their training and even beyond, but there would be a series of group classes where they would learn the fundamentals of the Jedi teachings, as well as general academic studies, much like in a normal school. The cub level was the first grade level, which had padawans ranging anywhere in age from two to ten, but most graduated this level before the latter. The next level would be Apprentice, and finally Sage. Though it was up to the master when the padawan was eligible to complete the trials, completion of all three levels was a pre-requisite.

Jhan and Edala were both now at the Sage level, Edala in the early stages and Jhan in the more advanced. When he wasn't hard at work, which was rarely anymore, he could be found romping about with Edala. They'd confided in each other things they wouldn't even tell their masters.

Upon reaching her quarters, he patiently waited, though by now he was very anxious at the chance to see her again.

When she answered, she squinted her eyes, taking on a very confused expression. "I'm sorry... do I... do I know you?"

"Aw, seal it, Dal!" he retorted, giving her a playful shove, one she gladly returned.

"So how's the future Grand Master, hmm?"

"I don't know. Feeling kinda useless, I guess."

"Master Skywalker on another mission?"

"Yeah. I could help him, y'know?"

"He knows that too, Jhan, he's just looking out for you. It's what masters do."

"I know."

"Y'know, once we pass our trials, things will be different. You should enjoy this while it lasts."

"I could probably pass the trials _today_, if they'd let me!" he said with a sly grin, allowing himself to boast a little in front of his friend, a bit out of character for him.

"Woah, look who's getting a big head _now_!" It was actually a refreshing change from his usual air of humility. "How bout testing that out on some Techmonsters?"

A wide grin spread over his face now, knowing exactly what she was referring to. "Oh, you are _so _on!"

They took off in a sprint, giving each other playful little force pushes on the way, joking and laughing. Yeah, it would be nice to take a day off.

When they finally reached their destination, Iy'tarmi Plaza, they headed straight for the arcade. Surprised to see the game they came to play open, they immediately jumped on it.

The game in question, _Hunters_, was currently the hottest game out, played by billions galaxy-wide, due in part to technology made possible by none other than GalaCom. In this game, only 'loosely' based on real-world situations, the player assumed the role of a 'hunter', taking on hordes of 'Techmonsters', hideous creatures with an array of advanced weapons and armor, 'Gunslugs', basically giant four-armed slugs on hovercrafts with cannons strapped to their backs, and a variety of other less-feasible enemies, across a fictional galaxy.

Wearing a special headset, the player was able to control their 'hunter' through the power of thought alone, making them perform virtually any action they could think of, within reason and the limitations of their in-game character's abilities, which could be upgraded as well. Once accustomed to the headset, the game was so immersive the player would almost feel as if they were the character, as the highly intuitive game engine would pick up even unconscious or conditioned thoughts - so walking, for example, required as little mental effort as it would in real life, assuming the player was a biped. The game had three difficulty settings: Normal, Hard, and Jedi, which even force-sensitive individuals would have trouble with, though few full-fledged Jedi ever engaged in such activities.

As the two padawans donned the headsets, a large holo-projection lit up in the middle of the room for all to see, and other patrons began gathering around to watch.

The skills of the duo certainly garnered attention - though the reviews were mixed. Focused intently on the game, they still heard the many comments from the mass.

"Woah, that was so tech! You could be a real bounty hunter!"

"Tuklaktobuk would kill them both in two seconds!'

"Kevilus Rakter would kill Tuklaktobuk!"

"What kinda spice are you on? Tuklaktobuk would tear their arms off before they could reach their blasters!"

"Please! Kevilus has killed plenty of wookies!"

"Yeah, well, Tuklaktobuk isn't just some wookie! He's like a wookie on growth stim!'

"Doesn't matter how big he is! Kevilus could outfight anyone - even a Jedi! He trained in the old school Mando arts!"

"There aren't any _real _Mandos anymore!"

"Maybe not full-blooded - but they kept the religion alive! Just like the Sith back in the day!"

"The _what?!"_

As Jhan and Edala listened to the ongoing rants of the young onlookers, they were rather amused, yet saddened, at the apparent ignorance of many of the youths. Was the Jedi academy the only place a child received a well-rounded education anymore? As they got older, each time they came in contact with the world outside the temple, their peers, and many adults, for that matter, seemed to get stupider. Obviously, with all of the budget cuts the Republic had made in recent years, the schools had suffered most of the brunt; and it already showed.

About to beat their previous high score, the pair was interrupted by a sudden commotion from the entrance of the arcade.

"Everybody against the back wall, now!" came the voice of another youth, waving a blaster. "Start throwing down your credit chips! Come on, hurry up!" The youth, who had to be younger than Edala or Jhan, was accompanied by a group of others, looking even younger than himself, also armed. Chaos quickly erupted. The occupants of the crowded arcade, now screaming and panicking, managed to file in line against the back wall amongst the confusion. Except for Jhan. Jhan, who casually stood in the same spot, his onscreen character now standing idle, arms crossed and facing the room, as if taunting the blaster-toting youths, daring them to react.

"Come on, Jhan! What are you doing?" cried Edala, giving a tug on his tunic, as the other youths began surrendering their credit chips.

"This isn't going to happen," was his only response.

"Jhan, don't do this! Just let it go, before somebody gets hurt! They're only credits!" she protested, fearful, yet exasperated.

"They aren't _their _credits, Dal."

One of the delinquents, noticing the show of insubordination, made his was over to the two.

"Are you with me?" Jhan gave his friend a sideways glance.

Edala sighed deeply. "Yeah, I got your six, but you can bet I'll be _kicking _it later!"

"Fair enough." The two turned to meet the youth's gaze.

Seeing the lightsabers hanging from their belts, he stoped short, a couple meters away, and motioned for the older youth. "Hey vorn, check it!"

The older youth, swaggering toward them to stand next to his friend, regarded the two.

"What? A couple Jedi? Shee... ," he shrugged nonchalantly, then directed his blaster toward the padawans. "Get in line. I don't care who you are - we're Teks, you don't be messin' with that!"

_Tekdaemons?! _So young, though - and on Fi'ar'la? In general, worlds occupied by the Jedi temples tended to have significantly lower crime rates, the Jedi's presence being an effective deterrent. This, however, was a double-edged sword. With less crime, property values escalated, making residence on these worlds only affordable to the wealthier citizens. This created a wedge between the Jedi and many of the lower-class citizens, viewing the Jedi as if part of an elitist society - which couldn't be further from the truth. It now appeared even the peaceful world of Fi'ar'la had felt the effect of the ongoing surge in crime, and the Tekdaemons were recruiting younger and younger.

"You need to return the credits and leave while you still can," Jhan said in an even tone, hand now resting on the hilt of his lightsaber. Not a force suggestion, but a simple request that he expected to be honored.

"Man, _frag _this!" the youth said, now pointing his blaster directly at Jhan and pulling the trigger. But before the bolt reached its would-be target, Jhan had his lightsaber engaged and the bolt deflected with a simple turn of his weapon, all within a fraction of a second. It did indeed make contact now, with the boy's foot, exactly where Jhan had intended.

"Yaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" the youth bellowed, grabbing his foot. The wound, if Jhan had calculated right, would leave the boy with a chunk missing from his big toe - no permanent damage, but enough to stop him in his tracks. "Light these fools!"

Unfortunately, his followers were still perfectly able-bodied. Now volleys of blaster-fire rained around the padawans, forcing them into a defensive position. The situation put the two at a loss, as even though the youths were the aggressors, there was an unwritten, unspoken rule the Jedi lived by: Even in self-defense - Jedi don't kill children. Though technically children themselves, the two padawan were still bound by this doctrine.

Jhan, moving with an unseen swiftness, had no trouble rising to the occasion, sending blaster bolts by the dozen harmlessly into walls or gaming equipment. His lightsaber moving in a blur, each maneuver he performed seamlessly fused into the next, like a beautiful stylized dance, almost too fast for the naked eye to distinguish. Quickly taking down another of the assailants with a clip to the knee, he covered a wide area, coming to Edala's aid when the heavy fire was too much for the less advanced padawan to handle. His next retaliation would produce a third-degree burn on one of the shooter's hands, causing him to drop his blaster.

But Jhan couldn't be everywhere - the harsh reality made clear at the sound of Edala crying out. Taking a split-second to visually check on her, he saw a scorched circle of fabric on her left shoulder, revealing a minor burn on the skin below. Painful, no doubt, but she'd be okay, and he breathed a sigh of relief. In that brief moment, however, he'd taken his focus off the incoming fire _just _enough to misjudge one of his counters - and the deflected bolt hurtled toward one of the frightened detainees, striking the Fi'ar'ii youth right in the chest.

"No!" Jhan yelled in dismay. The shooters abruptly halted their assault, and now all eyes were on him and the fallen Fi'ar'ii.

"Come on, let's blaze!" called the lead boy, and the youths hastily ran, or hobbled, out of the arcade.

Jhan, rushing to the side of the wounded youth, instructed the others to move away. "Dal, call the meds! Hurry!"

Soon, medics, along with a few reporters, emerged on the scene. Jhan had stayed by the Fi'ar'ii's side until the medics arrived, profusely apologizing for causing the injury, and in fact, the entire incident. _Why didn't I just listen to Edala? She said they're only credits, and now someone is hurt, all because of me!_

The reporters, taking eye witness accounts from the youths at the scene, quickly compiled an assessment of the events that had transpired - which would not look favorably upon the two padawans, or the Jedi, for that matter. Jhan's only concern right now, however, was the injured boy, and he remained silent throughout their entire trip back to the temple.

* * *

Notes: Thank you for your continued support! Hope you like the first chapter, more soon to come. I am also working on a new cover for the second act which should be up within the week. Please review!

Star Wars names and concepts are owned by Lucasfilm and used for creative purposes only.  
Original names and concepts created by Tony Mancosu. Cover art by Tony Mancosu.


	2. Chapter 2

**-2-**

As Koren performed countless sets of calisthenics to exhaustion within the confines of his private chamber, his mother entered. Not the room of a normal twelve-year-old boy, it was devoid of any form of entertainment, save for a small plasteel bounty hunter figurine, which Sada had - in secret - given him on his tenth birthday. Cleverly tucked in among his training wardrobe, the toy was his most prized, and only, possession, aside from his recently crafted lightsaber, which he had yet to use.

Seeing the boy nearing complete muscular failure, she urged, "One more repetition, my son. You can do it," to which he responded by forcing three more before collapsing against his will, practically drenched in sweat from head to toe. Allowing him to catch his breath, she offered him a ration bar, her eyes unconsciously darting from side to side. "Here. Eat this."

"Father said no rations until morning," he recited, shunning the food, even though his stomach churned with hunger.

"And _I _say it's technically morning already - so _eat_." Sada reached out to hand him the ration bar, but he abruptly rose to his feet, waving her away in protest, and strode to the other side of the room.

"I don't _want _it till I'm _good _enough!" he yelled, his voice cracking. He slumped against the wall. When a single teardrop hit the floor, he instinctively flinched, accustomed to the typical punishment for this kind of display of weakness. It didn't come, and he looked up to see his mother, a sudden look of concern on her face, still holding the bar. He felt an instantaneous wave of rage, mostly with himself at his failure to control his emotions. An intense scowl formed on his face, and he lashed out through the Force, sending the bar flying into the wall and knocking Sada's hand back.

"Sit. Yourself. Down. Right. Now, Boy." Her voice took on a chilling tone that compelled him to instantly comply. "_You _have been trained to _channel _your anger, _my son_, not direct it at your _mother_!"

When she moved briskly toward him, he cringed, expecting her to strike him. Instead, she leaned over, wrapping her arms tightly, almost violently, around him, and didn't let go for a long time. Then, holding him at arms length, she lifted his chin with her fingertips, forcing him to look directly at her. Finally she spoke, slowly and precisely.

"You are good enough. _Never _believe differently."

"Then why does he _punish _me?" Koren argued, his eyes glassy, but refusing to shed another tear.

"Because he sees great potential in you. Some day, you will be one of the most powerful Sith ever, perhaps even surpassing _him_. The path you're on is long and rigorous, my son, but you'll get there. I think at times he forgets you are still learning; tries to rush things." She knew this was a lie, but for some reason, it felt right. The words, however, seemed to offer little solace. "You performed remarkably today. He even said so." She had found it more and more difficult to say the word 'father' when referring to Sceptaurus, even though it had been the agreed upon arrangement.

"Really?" His eyes brightening, he now looked at her, hopefully.

"Really," she said with finality, rising up. "Now get some sleep, so you can show him up again tomorrow." Leaning in to plant a single kiss on his forehead, she stroked his hair, then showed herself out, shutting off the light on the way. Once she'd left the room, he picked up the ration bar off the floor, devouring it like he hadn't eaten for days, just as she'd hoped he would.

* * *

Despite Edala's insistence that Jhan shouldn't blame himself for what had happened, that he'd had the best intentions, that it was a freak accident, and those Tekdaemon hoods were the responsible party, it did nothing to alleviate his guilt. He'd retired early to his quarters, skipping his evening meal altogether. The holo news reports, airing barely more than an hour after the incident, only further affirmed his perceived failure, making statements like '_A looting in a local arcade erupted into a full-fledged shooting after Jedi intervened, leaving one youth hospitalized'. _

_Looting, indeed. _It was armed robbery, and they sought only to stop it. Well aware of the anti-Jedi connotations of the wording, he still took on the brunt. The Fi'ar'ii boy, he'd been told, would live, and was expected to make a full recovery, as no vital organs had been damaged. Even so, had he not chosen to intervene, the youth would have been unharmed, and the only loss would have been credits - most of which had been lost anyway, as the thugs had fled the scene while Jhan and Edala had stayed with the injured boy. It was a show of bad judgment on his part in the least, he concluded. Nothing good had come of it, and it could have ended much worse.

Lying on his bed for hours, with sleep still far from his mind, he was pulled away from his thoughts by a visitor at his door. Checking the chrono to see that it was almost midnight, he was surprised not only that he was still awake, but also that someone would come to his room at this hour. Would it be bad news? _Had the youth not made it after all?_ Shaking these thoughts from his head, he waved the hydraulic door open.

It was his master - wearing a grim expression. _He's come to give me the bad news - or tell me the punishment for my poor judgment today. _

But when Vhinh's eyes met Jhan's his features softened, and he spoke. "How are you doing?"

Not really paying the question mind, Jhan started in. "Is the boy okay? I'm so sorry, master, please say he's -"

Vhinh put up a hand, cutting him off mid-sentence. "He's fine. It's okay," he assured.

"Then why are you here at this hour, Master? What's wrong?"

"I knew you'd still be awake - likely beating yourself up. Edala was waiting for me when Master Ytalha and I returned," he began. "She told me everything. She's worried about you."

"Tell her I'm _fine_, Master. She should be worrying about the innocent boy I injured."

"Yes, Edala said that would be the focus of your thoughts. It was a very unfortunate accident. But he _will _be okay, Jhan. I don't blame you - none of us do. I actually blame myself a little, in fact."

Jhan shook his head in rebuttal. "Why, Master? You weren't even there - and you've given me only the best training. It was my decision... my mistake."

"Listen... Edala told me what you did today. She said you did what you felt you had to; that you were brave, calm, compassionate... all the things a Jedi should be. She said you showed amazing control, and precision, and only became distracted out of concern for her." Jhan lowered his head, not ready to accept any credit in light of the way things had ended.

His master went on. "You know, it's a different galaxy out there, from when I was a padawan. This world used to be safe. You didn't see things like this. I didn't see any real action until I was nineteen - right before I completed my trials. I wanted to, though, but probably not for the right reasons. I was cocky - not without reason - but I think you've already surpassed the level I'd achieved at your age ," Jhan's eyes widened in disbelief at this, "and you did this through countless hours of hard work and sacrifice. I'm very proud of you, Jhan... and I suppose I've been sheltering you, as well.

"Within the last couple years, I've continued watching you grow - in age and in skill - and secretly dreading the day when I could no longer delay your deployment, knowing the time was already at hand. You've been like a son to me, and I'd tell myself that if you had more training, maybe I wouldn't have to worry as much. But those thoughts - those actions - weren't in your best interests, or the best interests of the Order itself. Perhaps today would have gone down differently if you'd had more experience - or maybe there was nothing you could have done. It does no good to dwell on what could have been, only to move forward."

Vhinhn was quiet for a long moment, as if pondering something.

"I'm deploying you, Jhan." Jhan looked up at him in surprise. "From now on, you'll accompany me on every mission. It's a dangerous place out there. I'll need you to stay completely focused at all times."

"I will, Master. I promise."

Placing a hand on either of Jhan's temples, he instructed, "Get some rest. It could happen tomorrow." Jhan felt instantly drowsy, no doubt in part from his master's calming touch, but also his reassuring words. He felt much more at peace, in a better state of mind, since the events of the day. They exchanged bows, and Jhan headed off to bed, a great weight lifted temporarily off his chest.

* * *

Before Sceptaurus could contact him, an incoming holo transmission from the Hutt in question appeared on his display.

"Hello, Zabra," he answered. "I was just about to contact you."

"I'm sure you were, Sceptaurus."

He could tell Zabra was a little miffed. "You doubt me, Zabra? I'd thought we were past that."

"I don't know. You haven't been returning my calls. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were avoiding me. Use me to aid your purposes, but ignore me in a time of need."

"That's idiocy and you _know _it, _Zabra_," he said curtly. Then his voice became more accommodating. "After our long partnership, you should know better. Is this about that business with Tratzel's guard?"

"They've already driven me off of three worlds! He is costing me more resources than I care to waste on a mere civilian."

"I warned you to let it be, Zabra. Tratzel is indeed a powerful man. Perhaps not as much so as you or I, but not one to take lightly. He has connections everywhere. Perhaps your efforts would be better spent elsewhere."

"You didn't want the territory, so it was fair game, Sceptaurus. Besides, my operations were already partly established on two of those worlds - now they're all but ruined! Do you know how big of a loss I'm taking on this?"

"There you go with the credit talk again, Zabra. I ask you, have we not expanded exponentially? Reached greater heights than you'd previously thought possible, before the 'political' climate that _I _created?"

"Yes, and I'd thought I'd made my gratitude clear on that point. But how far will this go? Every time I turn around, there are more of Tratzel's men, and his corporations, or their subsidiaries, are everywhere - and he's become pretty adamant about protecting his investments, which is beginning to limit our options. I'm surprised you aren't more concerned about this. You wouldn't happen to be on of his many 'connections', would you? I mean, how much do I really know about you?"

At this, Sceptaurus let out a throaty laugh. Then his expression - what could be seen of it - turned sour. "Watch what you say, Zabra. I won't tolerate mindless accusations, even ones made in desperation. You've seen my books, I've seen yours; we've no need for secrecy."

Though not taking the threat lightly, Zabra still persisted, letting the stress get to him. "Then why hide your face? Who are you, really?" he challenged.

Sceptaurus didn't answer; he only looked on, as if contemplating. Then, he did something he rarely did in another's presence. He began slowly removing his hood, casting light on his true face for Zabra to gaze upon. On one side, his face carried the weathering of a man in his late fifties, with a little added wear from the stress of being a powerful Sith lord. His shoulder-length dark hair was heavily streaked with white. He undeniably looked nothing like Eulian Tratzel. But as he turned to allow the light to fully touch his face, a deep scar was revealed, running from his hairline, past a cloudy white eye, further down his face, and neck, finally hiding under his robe. Zabra was actually taken aback, normally difficult to decipher in his species' cold, emotionless faces, but unmistakable now.

"Does this look like the face of a businessman, Zabra?" he questioned.

Zabra could only respond with the first question that came to mind. "Where did you get the scar?"

"Inconsequential. Rest assured, they looked much worse before I finally ended their suffering." When Zabra didn't speak, he continued. "Your kind and mine both emerged from the shadows at some point in time, long ago. Perhaps that is how we have learned to use this to our advantage so adeptly. We are not part of that world, though we may exploit it for our own purposes, on occasion. A man like Tratzel, though formidable, has nothing to offer one such as myself but more credits. As you are well aware, that is not my interest."

"Point well taken. Now, seeing as how I serve your interests, might you realize the benefit of helping me take Eulian Tratzel out of the picture?"

"If you mean an assassination, I question your sanity, as you'd have more success gunning for the Chief of State himself."

"Of course not. But rather, a retaliation. Simply help me take back one of my worlds, show him that we will not be pushed around by some entrepreneur. After that, I'll steer clear of his operations... for the time being."

Darth Sceptaurus seemed to consider the proposition. "Very well, Zabra - though this goes against my better judgment. In the spirit of our partnership, I will aid you in this matter. I trust that after this, you'll be more selective in your conquests."

"Certainly. I may let my pride influence me from time to time, but I'm no fool, as you well know."

"Then let us get organized, so we may put this matter to rest."

"Thank you, Sceptaurus. I feel better already." With that, he ended the transmission. Sada then entered the room.

"So, how did it go, lover?"

"Perfectly. He played right into my hands. I held out, and I believe he relaxed his demands considerably."

"What are his 'demands'?" she asked, amused.

He scoffed. "He wants the Tekdaemons to help him reacquire one of their meager worlds, as an 'example' to Eulian Tratzel." He tightly clenched his fist. "If that _slug _only knew who he was dealing with. How I yearn for the day we remove him from this equation."

"What if you just gave him the world back, to shut him up for awhile? It would buy us more time to grow our army."

He looked thoughtfully. "You know, I had actually considered that course of action, my dear. But then it donned on me - this may be just the publicity Tratzel needs to make his next career move."

"You mean..." He nodded, knowing just what she referred to. "So soon?"

"What can I say? I'm very opportunistic. Once this phase is complete, we'll have little need for the Hutt cartel, and can gracefully bow out of the deal, with Tratzel being the responsible party for their eventual demise. We can then move on to our last, and final, conquest."

"Do you think our army will have any difficulties with the two cartels?"

"Not in the least. They're Sith - not the caliber of you or I, but Sith nonetheless - and they've had two exceptional teachers," he smiled. "And we do have other resources."

"I can't wait to see our army in action, love. When will it go down?"

"Soon. I think first we should let the fair citizens become more acquainted with Eulian Tratzel."

* * *

Thank you again for reading! Hope you are enjoying Act Two so far. Keep reading, there are some big surprises! Got the new cover up, check it out! As always reviews are greatly appreciated.

Star Wars names and concepts are owned by Lucasfilm and used for creative purposes only.  
Original names and concepts created by Tony Mancosu. Cover art by Tony Mancosu.


	3. Chapter 3

**-3-**

"Woah!" Jhan exclaimed, as a large rock hurtled past him, narrowly missing his head.

"Yeah, the Grimlorgs aren't known for being big on conversation," Vhinh responded. Their voices echoed throughout the mouth of the large cavern, where they had come to hold a meeting with the Grimlorgs.

The Grimlorgs, one of the indigenous species inhabiting the world of Karack, shared the planet with more recently settled and advanced humanoid races. Known for being very territorial, there existed a delicate peace between them and the other inhabitants. As long as no one bothered them, they kept mostly to themselves - until now. A group of Grimlorgs had been seen abducting the king of the Azentu, a humanoid civilization of inhabitants, while on one of his famed hunting trips, and then disappearing back into the caverns, their know habitat.

The Jedi had been called to bring back the king, peacefully, if at all possible, and attempt to get to the bottom of why he'd been kidnapped in the first place. With XXJ-9T, their highly advanced protocol droid, they'd hoped to resolve the matter without incident. It wasn't working out so well, however.

"They say they have no interest in the weak Azentu king, and if we don't get off their land immediately, we'll be buried on it. It sounds like a threat. Would you like me to neutralize them, sir?" XXJ-9T inquired.

"No, that won't be necessary, ExJay. Stand down," Vhinh instructed. Working with a passive-aggressive droid like ExJay was sometimes more of a liability than an asset.

"Tell them a group of them was seen taking the king into the caverns - we know he's here. We aren't here to fight, we just want the king back," Master Ytalha put in.

ExJay uttered a series of grunts and squeals, then awaited a response. The response came in the form of a large boulder, almost the size of the droid, flying at him, knocking him down and pinning him to the ground.

"Oh, I wish you had let me neutralize them, sir. It seems they were rather offended by your doubting them, and they are giving you one last chance to leave and never come back."

"Tell them we aren't leaving without the king, and there will be no further dialogue until we have him back, in _one piece_," Vhinh declared.

"Um... would you please help me up so I might take cover first, sir?"

So, the three Jedi rolled the boulder aside, helping ExJay upright, who then hobbled behind another large boulder, finally translating the Jedi's demand. Following was a hushed silence. ExJay was right to take cover, though, as now a barrage of rocks and boulders came at them. The three quickly ignited their lightsabers, slicing through the smaller projectiles, Vhinh and Master Ytalha using the Force to catch the larger boulders in mid-air, setting them down only to catch more.

"Press on!" Master Ytalha called out, and so, blocking and destroying flying objects all the way, the Jedi continued forward, deeper into the large cavern, while the Grimlorgs gradually gave up ground. Soon, they came to a huge opening in the cavern, revealing a vast room filled with multiple tiers of flooring and systems of ladders. Each walkway seemed to disappear into another hole in the cavern's walls, many over a hundred feet off the floor. The entire structure seemed to be supported by four very large pillars.

A bloodcurdling, high-pitched screech could now be heard, coming from several of the retreating Grimlorgs. In seconds, Grimlorgs emerged from the woodwork, left and right, quickly flooding the room, climbing - and jumping - down ladders and swinging down on ropes from the suspended walkways. Wasting no time in fighting for the ground they lost, they began sending barrages of rocks and boulders in the direction of the Jedi. The three put forth their best efforts, but it was becoming overwhelming.

"ExJay, if you want to neutralize things, why don't you target some of those rocks!" Vhinh called to their counterpart, now huddled behind another rock meters away from them.

"Yes, sir." If enthusiasm could be seen in a droid, this was it, as even in his body language it was evident he'd been spoiling for a chance to mount some kind of offense, hurriedly leaving cover and proceeding to pulverize rock after rock, a few even before they left the hands of the angry Grimlorgs.

The droid's assistance did make some difference, and the Jedi began to press on, once again. Frustration grew apparent in the Grimlorgs, as many of them abandoned their projectiles and stormed the Jedi in all-out frontal assaults. Their large, fur-covered bodies dwarfed the Jedi, and the sight of one of the beasts descending on them would have sent a normal man running. Slashing at the Jedi with razor-sharp claws, they appeared not even phased by the lightsabers. The three began moving back, now giving up some of the ground they had gained, not wanting to impale or otherwise mutilate the Grimlorgs with their deadly weapons. But the Grimlorgs would not relent, pursuing the Jedi, one of them managing to land on the young Jhanopellis, knocking him to the ground, preparing to sink its claws into him. Not yet ready to die on his first deployment, he did the only thing he could, holding his lightsaber firmly in front of his face. With each swipe the Grimlorg took at him, a slight turn of his wrists made it a painful mistake for the attacker, severing claws, then wrists, but the Grimlorg would not relent. It began gnashing its teeth at him, now attempting to take his head clean off in one ravenous bite.

"Stop! Get off!" he cried, pleading with the battle-crazed creature to no avail. Not able to escape from under its weight, Jhan's only defense was his blade, so when it came down, open-mouthed, ready to sink its teeth into his skull, he plunged the lightsaber straight down its throat. The sickening sizzle accompanied by the scent of burnt hair was the Grimlorg's send-off, as it collapsed now at his side, motionless. The fact that the Grimlorg gave him little choice in the matter did nothing to console him, but there would be time to deal with moral dilemmas later, as Grimlorgs were surrounding them, closing in.

The trio dodged and parried to no effect, as the creatures greatly outnumbered them, forcing them to use their lightsabers or die themselves. They were on a mission, to retrieve an abducted king, and the Grimlorgs were standing in their way. If they would not cooperate, there was no other recourse. The Jedi surrendered themselves to the situation, and did what they felt they must. Grimlorgs fell all around them.

Master Ytalha made one more effort to reach out to their attackers. "Exjay, tell them we do not wish to continue down this path. Surrender the king, and it will put an end to the bloodshed."

Exjay relayed the message, barely audible above the mayhem, and even a non-Grimlish speaking being could tell it was not well received. "They say the time to talk has passed, and we shall die with them for desecrating their homeland."

As soon as the words had left his mouth, even more rocks came their way, but this time, they weren't playing around. Several very large boulders were rolled out the mouths of the upper openings in the cavern walls, pushed by groups of Grimlorgs.

Vhinh looked on in horror. "I have a bad feeling about this."

"As do I," agreed Master Ytalha.

Huge boulders came rolling down from the walkways, some narrowly missing the Jedi, some wildly crashing into the cavern walls themselves, shaking the entire room with the impact.

Jhanopellis dodged another of the rolling behemoths, which grazed one of the four pillars, rocking the very structure where the Grimlorgs stood. "They're gonna bring this whole place down!"

"Exjay, come on!" Vhinh called to the droid who was still making futile attempts to break down the giant boulders rolling their way. The three Jedi, along with the droid, began to file out the way they had come in - but it made no difference. The Grimlorgs already seemed completely committed to their new tactic, and boulder after boulder continued crashing down around them. One pillar fell, taking part of the walkway and many Grimlorgs down with it, landing with a deafening boom. This did nothing to discourage the attack, however. The fact that they were destroying their own home seemed to be no deterrent, as if the giant boulders, stashed away somewhere deep within the caverns, were their all-purpose contingency plan which, once initiated, there was no turning back from.

Before they could reach the entrance of the large cavern, they saw a second pillar wobble, slowly lose its center of gravity, then finally topple over - and that was it. The entire structure, the walkways, ladders, and boulders with them, came crashing down, along with the Grimlorgs upon it. Many Grimlorgs on the ground were crushed by the falling boulders and debris, and those who made it out remained in hot pursuit of the Jedi, following them all the way through the tunnel and out the mouth of the cavern to the outside.

Trying to avoid the Grimlorgs' advances, they were all interrupted by three small shuttles rushing by overhead, flying relatively close to the ground. They all turned to watch the ships, including the Grimlorgs, whiz past the large cavern, off into the distance, then dive toward the surface, headed straight for an opening in the ground. The Grimlorgs looked on, no longer trying to attack the Jedi, as if deep in thought. Who were these mysterious shuttles, and why were the Grimlorgs so intently watching after them?

* * *

"Greetings, citizens! I'm Hanli Tross."

"And I'm Von Kitel."

"Today we have a very special guest joining us. Many in the financial world both despise and revere him, for he has taken his family legacy to new heights, creating a vast tech empire, and may currently be the richest man in the galaxy. But he's also received recent attention for the actions of his own private security force, or, dare I say, _army_, who have been striking back against the cartels, and have actually reclaimed three Hutt-controlled worlds. This has not surprisingly drawn attention from the Republic, who have fallen on hard times since the drastic escalation in crime in the aftermath of the Peacekeeper shut-down over a decade ago. Today we'll meet the man behind the story, talk about his present and future plans and his reaction to an alleged 'proposition' made to him by the Republic. But we won't keep you waiting any longer, so here he is, tech giant and multi-trillionaire, Eulian Tratzel."

"Tratzel... that name sounds _really _familiar for some reason... ," Karta said, as the Ishi Tib Hanli and human Von rose to greet their next guest. Their show, _Affair Galactic_, was the most widely-watched talk show in Republic space, as well as a well-respected news source. Normally she wouldn't bother with things of this nature, but she was bored, and there was nothing else on. As their guest appeared on stage, she sat up and took notice, feeling a chill run down her spine. She'd never forget that face. There he was, looking barely a day older, with a smug air about him as he greeted the duo onstage and took a seat.

"Hello, Mr. Tratzel, and welcome," Von greeted him, shaking his hand vigorously.

"Just Eulian, _please,_" he requested, and made his way to Hanli, kissing her cheek. Hanli made a fanning gesture near her face, as if being wooed by the simple peck, and motioned toward him to the audience, mouthing some comment about his pleasing appearance.

"So, Mr. Tratzel - _Eulian_," she said with a flirty smile, "is there a _Mrs_. Tratzel?"

He laughed a little. "No, not yet. My work does consume a lot of my time, but there is a special someone in my life."

"_Really_. Well, come on, don't be shy - does she have a name?"

"I prefer to keep that private, if it's all the same."

"I understand. Well, can you at least tell us what she does? What kind of woman wins the heart of a very desirable man such as yourself?"

"She's... a teacher. That's all I'll tell you," he said teasingly.

"Hmm, so, who's the breadwinner in _that _relationship?" she joked. "But in all seriousness, you've taken one of the largest tech dynasties in the galaxy and grown it into perhaps the largest, and most profitable corporation in the galaxy as a whole. How did you do it?"

"Through shady dealings. _Creep_," Karta riposted.

"Well, as I said, I am always working, it's been my life, basically... and through some wise, well thought-out investments and acquisitions, well... I guess you'd say it takes a very good business sense, not one which can be acquired through some fancy school, but I think I learned a lot from my late father."

"A touchy subject, I understand - his untimely death," Von put in. "How old were you when he passed?"

"I was eighteen. Of course I was devastated, but I took the reigns and tried my best to fill the void he'd left. I had a good base to start with - my father was a financial genius. I suppose I put so much into the company because I saw it as my father's first love, and I wanted to honor him in that way."

"Well, you've certainly done that, and _then _some. With your recent acquisition of Kuat-Temkor, your net worth has soared. So why expand into that particular industry?"

"I think it was a logical step. Many of their ships are already fitted with our technology, in communications and navigation, for instance, and this I believe will bring everything together under one roof, streamlining the process and giving us more time and energy to dedicate to research & development."

"You lost a rather large contract with the disbanding of the Peacekeepers over a decade ago, but it barely seemed to phase you."

"We... did see the earnings reports, and, I'll tell you, it wasn't good, but, we had to take the loss and move on. I always try to diversify my investments, because things like this do happen. You can't put all your crew on one ship."

"Speaking of the Peacekeepers, Eulian," Hanli cut in, "the Republic has obviously been in a bad spot in their absence, and sources have indicated they've actually made you a rather substantial offer, regarding your private guard."

"Yes, it's common knowledge now, they were in fact interested in commissioning my guard, perhaps expanding, in an attempt to bring back some type of galaxy-wide security force."

"And you, I take it, weren't very receptive to the idea?"

Tratzel looked pensive, then said, "You know, it's not that I wasn't receptive, but there are a lot of considerations to be made, and I don't think the Republic is in that kind of position fiscally, as well as politically, at this point. They made an offer to commission my forces, yes, but for the scope of what they hope to eventually accomplish, they simply aren't ready. I wasn't interested in the credits, really, the kind they have to offer, anyway.

"Now this might make me appear greedy, but you have to realize the kind of investment it takes to make a program like this successful. It's all or nothing; there's no halfway about it. Obviously I have my guard dispersed throughout the galaxy to protect my investments, but what happens if the Republic takes over? My guard can't be everywhere, so I'm putting myself at risk, so the Republic can experience a small benefit from a little added security.

"The bottom line is, the Republic, unfortunately, is not what it used to be. They don't have the credits to support this kind of program anymore, and the way things are going I don't see that changing any time soon. Now, I actually made them a counter offer... ,"

"I didn't know that," she said, surprised. "What was your counter offer, and how did they react to it?"

"Well, in order for me to undertake any venture, I have to see a potential for success. I didn't get to where I am by making foolish investments. In order for the program to be successful, it would need to be expanded significantly, but also structured. Now, I have the credits to do this, and the business sense to oversee it. One problem I see, is that most don't realize that the Republic is no different from a failing business. We seem to separate politics from finance, but the dynamics are largely the same. Believe me, I've been in business a long time and have become very well-versed in politics."

"Yeah, like in bribing politicians," Karta said dryly.

"I've also taken failing businesses which I saw potential in, and turned them around in a short amount of time to make them profitable again, in many cases more -"

"Hey, Karta, have you seen my stunner?" Nars interrupted, thoughtlessly walking right in front of the holo deck.

"Shhhhhh!" she hushed, pushing him out of the way. He turned to see what she was so intently watching. Some fancy-dressed guy on _Affair Galactic_. Didn't really seem like her thing.

"Who's that guy?" he inquired.

"That's _him_. Now be _quiet_." By him, he actually had kind of an idea who she might be referring to, as more than once she'd described her run-in with some scary guy at some political building back on Commenor. He didn't really look that scary, but he was powerfully built and well-dressed, so he put two and two together.

"... would want to retain jurisdiction of my guard, while working in conjunction with the Republic, in a newly created position. I would oversee the expansion and deployment of the guard, delegating tasks to the necessary parties, in essence I would be in charge of galactic security, much like a private security contractor, but on a larger scale."

"And the Republic didn't jump on the deal, huh?"

"It's... some would say, unconventional, but others, like myself, would say innovative. The current business model of the Republic, from my perspective, needs to be re-evaluated, because it simply isn't working. Part of this, yes, is due to a shortfall in law enforcement, but there are other factors, which I won't go into, as it isn't my place at this point in time. In any case, no, they, I believe, feared handing over such a huge responsibility to an outside party. To this, I asked, 'So how is that working out for you?'"

"Indeed," she said grimly.

"So, Eulian," Von took over, "a bit about your guard in question, as they've drawn quite a bit of attention themselves. Some people claim they're actually Force users. What's your response to that, and if so, where are you finding them?"

He smiled smugly. "They're not Jedi, if that's what you're getting at. My men are very highly trained, by an elite few whom I have gathered during my travels. The suits they wear do lend a bit of enhancement to their natural abilities, but as I said the real value is in their training. I demand only the best, and that extends to all my ventures."

"A regular jack of all trades, aren't you, Eulian? And the identity of these men? There seems to be a bit of mystery in where they're coming from."

"Wouldn't you say that only adds to their power?" he asked, and Von nodded in confirmation. "While I can't divulge the identity or origin of these men, for security reasons, I will say that they undergo very thorough criminal background checks as well as psychiatric evaluations, and I'm confident we will never experience anything like the unfortunate incidents involving the Galactic Peacekeepers. I'd put my reputation on that."

"So, are you recruiting? Can I join?"

Tratzel laughed with gusto at this. "I don't know, Von, you're a little short," he joked. Von spread his arms as if offended. "Seriously, though, I'm not at this time, as I have recruiters who have been tasked with seeking out these individuals, and they are very selective... and as you can imagine, I have enough job applications to sort through as it is. But who knows, maybe some time in the future. Perhaps a few Jedi may even like to apply, that is if the bounty hunters don't get there first." His eyes widened and he wore a quaint smile as he said this, looking from side to side.

"Ooh, did he really say that?" Hanli mused. "That was a little below the belt, Eulian."

"Yes, yes, no offense intended by that, of course. I just fear the Galactic Republic is in a declining state, and it's time for some serious revision."

"Have you ever given any thought to running for office?"

"I've entertained the thought, I suppose, but honestly I don't know if the galaxy is ready for a leader such as myself. They are afraid of change."

"I'd vote for you," she commented playfully.

"Thank you, and I'll hold you to that, Hanli," he grinned.

"So, on a lighter note, how old are you now, Eulian? Fifty-something?"

"Fifty-seven."

"Wow. You don't look a day over forty, if that. What's your secret?"

"Magic." He said, with a completely serious expression, then it faded. "No, there's really not a secret. Just a healthy lifestyle, you know, exercise and nutrition."

"You are an impressive man, Eulian. You manage to do everything you do, and still take care of yourself. Do you ever sleep?"

"Yes, mostly during business meetings."

"_And _he has a great sense of humor. I hope your significant other realizes what she's got, because I know there's a ton of ladies who would die to get their hooks into you."

"Myself _included_," Karta said, scowling. The thought of this man, this _evil _man - an opinion formed after having spent all of thirty seconds in his presence, but an opinion she felt no doubt accurate - in charge of galactic security scared her almost as much as the dreams she'd had after that day. In these dreams - or nightmares, rather, he stared at her with that malicious glare, then began viciously choking her, until she forgot how to breathe, only to wake up in a cold sweat, gasping for air. "Can you believe that? Someone like that, having that much power over us?"

"I don't know, Karta, I mean he kinda has already, hasn't he? He's the reason you've been in hiding all these years."

"I know, and he _needs _to be exposed, before he becomes too big to be stopped."

"Who's gonna expose him? He'll have you killed if you come forward. Besides, you don't even really have anything on him."

"There has to be something. I need to remember the name of that lady he was trying to bribe. She was a senator... probably from Commenor. NineHundred, can you do a search on senators for me, starting with Commenor, about twelve years ago," she trailed off, taking in the fact that it had been this long, and that horrid face was still fresh in her mind. "Uh... _female _senators."

"Yes, Ms. Oblith." There was a quiet moment while NineHundred performed a search. "Only one match on that search, Ms. Oblith. Ayda Hynn, Commenor Senate, deceased."

"_Deceased_! What did she die of? She didn't even look that old, looked pretty healthy, too."

"It says unknown causes. She was found in her apartment, no evidence of foul play, full autopsy, no investigation."

"Unknown causes... I think I have a pretty good idea of the cause." There were always ways to hide foul play, especially for someone with the resources of Mr. Tratzel. "I need to know why he was bribing her... there has to be something. NineHundred, are you able to do an analysis of Ms. Hynn's acts as senator, find out what her known involvements were? Maybe see if there are any likely connections, something that occurred after or around the day you guys found me? Something about a _bill_, I remember him saying, 'if the bill passes...'" she said this more to herself than NineHundred.

"Yes, Ms. Oblith. I'll inform you as soon as my analysis is complete."

"Thanks, Nine."

Nars spoke up, unable to refrain any longer. "Uh, Karta... I mean, what are you planning to do? Even if you find something, how is that gonna help? That lady senator is dead, and even if she weren't... ,"

Agitated, she turned to him. "What? So I'm just supposed to let it go? Look, I don't know, _okay_? But I'm not gonna just sit back and not even try. This guy is obviously used to getting what he wants, I mean look at him, how much money he has, how he just pays off politicians, _murders _them, and gets away with it! Maybe I'd rather _die _than let him _keep _getting what he wants."

"But how are the cartel bosses any different? I mean, they do that kind of stuff every day, and we're sticking it to them every time we nab one of their guys. What's different about this guy?"

"What's _different _is that at least the cartels represent who they really are, instead of hiding behind all their money. Plus, he's working with them, or _was_ - so he's already just as bad as any of them, and he's _evil_, okay? I don't mean like a crook, or like some violent criminal, I mean, truly _evil_. You had to have seen him that day, then you'd understand."

Nars didn't know what to say. He supposed she probably knew what she was talking about, but what was one person going to do up against something like that? He just didn't want her to get hurt, or be devastated when she realized there really was nothing she could do. He _did _wish she could find a way to let it go, but he couldn't say that. He knew how she felt, but he also knew that thinking about it was only going to make her feel worse.

"Based on my analysis, Ms. Oblith," Ninehundred's voice cut back in, "there is one specific connection around the time frame you indicated which may match the criteria of your query. A proposal for a bill involving the Peacekeepers, in fact. Proposition of bill #3749J-9365A, the cutting of all funding and removal of the Peacekeeper program."

"By the stars, Nine, that's _it_! That _has _to be it! That's why he was bribing her! He was in on it, somehow!"

"But he's a businessman, how would that help- ," Nars began.

"_with _criminal ties!" Karta finished. "Obviously deeper than we thought, if this is any indication. Oh my god, this is it - this is _big_!" she realized, now processing thoughts a mile a minute. "Look at things, Nars! Look what's going on out there, I mean - it's perfect - it fits! The cartels, the Republic - and now he's trying to profit off of it - maybe he already _has_! It was all a scheme, he had to have known, it can't be a coincidence." Karta turned to him for some kind of support, validation for this huge revelation she'd just had.

All he could manage was, "Wow, I think you might be right, Karta. So what do you want to do?" A little more enthusiasm, a nice retrospective moment would've been nice - after all, this involved her - at least indirectly, and was shedding new light on issues that had been in the far recesses of her mind for many years. _Oh well, _she'd take what she could get.

To answer the question, she didn't know - didn't have the slightest idea of where to begin or what she even expected to accomplish - but she had to do _something_. She couldn't let this information just pass by without incident.

"I don't know, exactly... but I need to get it out there - to the _right _people. To someone I can trust - someone who might have some kind of influence, who knows how to deal with these things better, obviously."

"Hmm, who does that leave? If your - ," he started to say something like 'if your dad knew about it, he'd know who to talk to, being a politician, and so on', but decided that would be a sour subject to touch on. It didn't matter, because she guessed what he had in mind, and, fortunately, was too focused on this new development to become consumed in another bout of grief, which she'd experienced periodically throughout the years.

"I can't trust a politician," she went on, as if to stifle his thought, "because I don't know the right ones, and I'm still wanted, possibly, though perhaps not actively pursued. That kind of cuts it down considerably. The bounty hunters, the wrong ones, anyway, would have reason to act on that. Virtually all my old contacts, acquaintances, they're all out. We've met a lot of people - the occasional drifter, bartender, pawnbroker, arms dealer, maybe a decent person here and there tossed into the mix - but anyone who has any kind of power? Influence?"

Nars deliberated on that point. "Now, when you say _power_... "

She raised a cynical eyebrow at this. "Whaaaat?" she droned.

"Well, what about the Jedi? I mean, they're supposed to have all this wisdom, you know? They might know what to do."

The _Jedi_. While her opinion of them had been questionable, at best, in her younger years, now they just seemed to be fading into obscurity, in her own eyes and no doubt countless others. However, it may be the most logical choice, at this point. They had served as mediators of affairs, both large and small, since their inception, and the overall impression seemed to be that they were on the right side, however misguided. As much as she hated to admit it, it might be worth some consideration. It couldn't hurt to talk to one of them, _could _it? Would they turn her in out of some obligation of honor to the Republic? Or would they be the understanding, compassionate example of the beings of old lore? She might just have to chance it - it could be her best bet.

"Ugh," she only said.

* * *

Notes: Thanks for reading! More chapters soon, I try to update once or twice a week, so stay tuned. Please review!

Star Wars names and concepts are owned by Lucasfilm and used for creative purposes only.  
Original names and concepts created by Tony Mancosu. Cover art by Tony Mancosu.


	4. Chapter 4

**-4-**

* * *

From where the three Jedi stood on the surface of Karack, along with small group of Grimlorgs who had pursued them with a passion up until moments ago, sounds of blasters could be heard off in the distance. Some kind of exchange seemed to be taking place, and then, finally, there was a long silence. The silence was broken when the three ships they had seen earlier emerged from the ground. As they grew near the group on the ground, they slowed their velocity and descended near the mouth of the cavern. The hatch on one of the shuttles opened, and out came four Grimlorgs - followed by a pair of bounty hunters and a protocol droid.

"Oh, great," Vhinh said in exasperation.

The bounty hunters approached the group, and one of them addressed Vhinh. "Don't worry, Jedi, we have the king. You can all go home now."

Jhanopellis looked up to his master, confused. The four Grimlorgs, along with the protocol droid, approached the others, and the droid began speaking to them in their language.

"What are they saying, ExJay?" Vhinh inquired.

"It seems these were the kidnappers, originally. They were coerced - captured by cartel members, and told if they didn't present the king, the cartel would place thermal detonators at every cavern entrance, sealing in their clan and leaving them all to die," the droid paused, listening carefully to more of the conversation. "The cartel intended to collect a sizeable ransom for the king. The bounty hunters have already received a full confession from one of the cartel members they apprehended, and are releasing the four Grimlorgs back to the custody of their clan."

Vhinh and Master Ytalha gave each other a knowing look. One of the Grimlorgs from the cavern approached them, a somber look about him. He spoke to them, his voice calm, but carrying a tone of abhorrence that couldn't be missed.

Exjay routinely translated his words. "On our honor, Jedi, we told you we had nothing to do with your king's disappearance. You doubted us, you invaded our homeland, and we defended what is ours. You think us beneath you - mindless savages - but we fight and die for honor. Why do you fight? There is no honor here."

The Jedi could not argue, only nod in acceptance.

"Exjay," Master Ytalha finally said, "tell them we will repair the damage done to their abode, but we know that nothing will replace the lives lost today. We are deeply sorry, and if there is anything we can do to begin to repay this great injustice, they need only ask - we are forever in their debt."

Upon hearing this, the Grimlorg said nothing, only snorted, the same look of disgust on his face, turned his back to them and walked away.

The two bounty hunters, shaking their heads, boarded the shuttle and departed, over the horizon, to return the king to his rightful place.

As the four Grimlorgs rejoined their group, they headed for the cavern, apparently to survey the damage and tend to the fallen and wounded. The Jedi, seeking to aid them, followed.

Vhinh grabbed his com, preparing to send for med-droids. "ExJay, tell them not to move the wounded, we'll have med-droids on the scene momentarily."

Without waiting for the translation, the Grimlorg that had addressed them before turned around, looking directly at the Jedi.

ExJay's translation: "You said if there is anything you can do for us, we need only ask. There is only one thing you can do for us, Jedi. Leave. And never return."

Had this been a nation under the jurisdiction of the Republic, to leave wounded without medical attention would have put them at issue - but the Grimlorg territory was considered an independent nation, and therefore the Jedi were forced to comply. They bowed their heads in acknowledgement, and slowly walked away.

"Well, once again, the bounty hunters show up to save the day," Vhinh said, a hint of bitterness in his voice. Master Ytalha started to give him a disapproving look, but it quickly faded.

"How did they know, Master? Where to go...," Jhanopellis asked Vhinh.

"They obviously have access to better intelligence, Jhan. There's a lot of credits in their trade."

"Why can't we get that kind of intelligence, then? We're funded by the Republic too, right? The same Republic who pays all their bounties?"

"It's not that _simple_, Jhan."

"So, this a _normal _occurrence?"

Vhinh had a reluctant look, like he didn't want to answer the question. "I honestly don't know how to explain it, Jhan. This is a changing time we're in...," he shook his head, then looked directly at Jhanopellis, "I'm not going to lie to you. Yes, the Jedi have had a run of bad luck lately, if you want to call it that. We don't know exactly why, but we have suspected dark forces at work. The Republic, and the people, have lost some confidence in us... but we still carry ourselves with the same dignity... still fight for the same ideals..."

Jhanopellis was visibly upset now. "That Grimlorg was _right_! Why are we even fighting?! If this is any indication, we're doing more harm than good! And you say this is _normal?_ I have blood on my hands - _innocent _blood, and this is only my first deployment! They didn't even do it! _They didn't even do it!_" he screamed now, throwing his lightsaber to the hard ground, which sent up a cloud of dust before it rolled to a stop.

Master Ytalha was compelled to step in. "_Jhanopellis Udo_, mind your emotions, young one! _You _are _better _than this. Your frustration is not without merit, but you need a more constructive way to express it."

"_Why,_ Master Ytalha? I've trained most of my life to find constructive ways to express myself - all for something I _believed _in, with all my _heart!_ And this is _it?!" _He stormed up to Master Ytalha now, in a way no padawan ever dared approach a master, and looked him cold in the eye. "You're a powerful Jedi Master, right? You can see things? Then _tell _me what is going to happen - if we're going to _fight_, to _die,_ for _nothing... kill _more _innocent _beings... how are we going to get _past _this? _Tell me!_" His eyes now welled up with tears. When he saw the unsure expressions on the Masters' faces, he realized they didn't know, either; they were in the same position as him. He fell to his knees and buried his face in his hands. "I'm sorry, Masters... I'm sorry..."

Vhinh walked over, crouched down, and looked at him directly. "We don't know how we'll get past this, Jhan... but we'll do it together. I think we've all felt like you do at one time or another. When I questioned if what I was doing what was right, I had to examine my intentions. Ultimately, I had to put all my trust in the Force - believing that if I was on the right side, it would guide me, guide us all down the right path."

"What if there isn't a right path anymore? Or what if the Order isn't the way to that path?"

Such blasphemous words could once land a padawan, or any Jedi, in trouble. There was still a fine line between questioning everything in order to gain understanding and living by the principles of the Order. Neither Master Ytalha nor Vhinh blamed the boy for his words, or thought there was any bad intent behind them. He sought only to understand.

"I can't answer that with complete certainty, Jhan. But I will say that the Order has been serving the Republic for many, many millennia, and it has seen worse times than this - much worse - times of great darkness; but light has always been restored."

The young padawan nodded his acknowledgement, and he so badly wanted this to be enough, but it did little to alleviate his doubt.

Jhan spent the entire shuttle ride home in deep meditation, his masters exchanging a few concerned looks, looks of 'how do we guide this boy - he is in a dangerous place'. Neither knew the answer, but both suspected it would be the subject of their next meditation, becoming more and more frequent.

* * *

Not sure exactly why she'd come to the conclusion that this was the right decision, Sada hastily programmed the hyperspace coordinates into her shuttle's navcomputer. Destination: Fi'ar'la. She'd gone over and over in her head what she would say to him, questioned why she _needed _to say _anything_, and then decided to keep it simple and to the point. What she could _actually _say was very limited; after all, she was going to see a _Jedi_. As if this didn't scream insanity in and of itself, her reasons for doing so were even more intangible. She wanted Vhinh Skywalker to know that, somewhere out there, he had a son; a son born of their one solitary union, impeccably planned unbeknownst to him. This _Jedi_, her sworn enemy, who she'd deceived in order to conceive a child with, a child born of the Skywalker bloodline but raised Sith; this _Jedi_, who would eventually be eliminated as their plans unraveled - she wanted him to have knowledge of this child, their son. But why? What would this accomplish?

Since the time of Koren's birth, Sada and Darth Sceptaurus had been at odds on several occasions. At times, when she had voiced an opposing viewpoint on Koren's upbringing, she had ended up being sorry she had. Though he hadn't gotten physical - he really hadn't needed to - the mental berating and luring of his power over her had been enough to make her back down; most of the time. There were only a few exceptions, the first being his refusing to let her hold him after he was delivered by the medical droids, deep within the confines of their private sanctuary. He'd argued that the boy needed to experience pain before comfort. Oh, she was _not _having ay of that! 'He's already been through enough pain! _You _of all beings in the galaxy, should _know _that!' As his insistence grew, so did her anger. Emotions and hormones already in turmoil after having just given birth, this made for a volatile cocktail; a formidable Sith lord indeed. He'd instructed one of the med droids to restrain and sedate her, and she'd responded by sending it soaring across the op room, shattering against the wall into an array of bolts, wires and circuits. With Sada already bleeding heavily and in danger of hurting herself or Sceptaurus, he decided this would not be in their best interests, and conceded.

So what kind of mother did it make her to subject her only son to this kind of treatment? She was _Sith_, first and foremost, a notion she had to remind herself of every day, and she knew the seemingly harsh discipline imposed on Koren would make her son great and powerful some day, as difficult as it was for her to watch. Had she chosen another path for him, even then it wouldn't be as simple as taking the boy and fleeing - that would put both of them in danger, as there was no telling _what _Sceptaurus would do if she so much as _considered _this.

The reality was, she was bound to Darth Sceptaurus. Besides the fact that he'd been her savior when she was a distraught, confused young woman living a miserable existence, with this hidden power she'd barely tapped into and no outlet to speak of. He'd given her life meaning, made her feel so alive, so free. There had no doubt been, and still was, an intense physical and emotional attraction, as well. Darth Sceptaurus, not hard on the eyes, was unquestionably a genius, and she was mesmerized by the way his mind worked, calculating and all-encompassing. Her lust for the man was surpassed only by the lust for the power he embodied, the power and secrets he promised to impart unto her in time. This total package made Darth Sceptaurus like one bad drug to her, an addiction she couldn't overcome, nor did she want to. Women are sometimes attracted to men that are no good for them - apparently it was no different if you happened to be a Sith.

Tormented by the fact that, despite everything, he was no father to Koren, she sought out some shred of connection, however forbidden, in this Jedi. Could she very well tell Koren that his biological father was a Jedi, the very thing he was raised to hate, who they would eventually have to kill? No, this would only cause further disarray to the already troubled child. But, she could make this Skywalker aware of the boy, in hopes that he may somehow reach out through the Force, offering a comforting hand in his times of loneliness, which seemed to be very prevalent. Sada owed this to her son, to at least make this one desperate attempt. Feeling sometimes like a walking contradiction, she had even tried before to distance herself, but her devotion to the Sith ways could not sever the bond she felt with her son.

Her mind swimming through all the possibilities, all the fears, she realized the star lines in her viewport had metamorphosised once again into the tiny white dots within the vast blackness, an imagery lost on few Sith; each in turn would be swallowed by the darkness eventually, and though new stars would be born, many would perish with an intensity that enveloped and destroyed their own systems, some even becoming a black hole, a place of eternal damnation for all that is light. But now, the dark would reach out to the light.

Not sure where she might find him, aside from the obvious, the Jedi Temple of Fi'ar'la - which she would have to be certifiably insane to venture anywhere near, disguise or not - she decided on the small cafe where she had arranged their meet-cute, following a week of covert surveillance.

She would, of course, be once again donning the facade of Nea, the fictitious personality she'd adopted in order to seduce him all those years ago. Based on a younger version of herself, but with noticeably different features, the character had served her purpose well. With a few minor tweaks, she could easily become a slightly older version of Nea. The entire farce would be much simpler this time around, as her aim was not to seduce him, so the addition of her subtle yet potent mind-altering powers would be unnecessary. She mused that she probably could have done without them the first time, as the fact that the young Jedi was of the male persuasion definitely helped seal the deal.

Apparently she had come to Has Bin Trel's cafe at the perfect time, because there, at the very table they had met all those years ago, sat an older version of Vhinh Skywalker, by himself, looking very downtrodden. Could it have anything to do with their elaborate, well-laid out grand plan? She certainly hoped so. She casually strolled, or more like swaggered, up to the table.

"Excuse me, sir, may I share this booth?"

Reluctantly lifting his eyes from his seemingly untouched broth, he did a double-take when he saw her.

* * *

Notes: Wow! A blast from the past! So what do you guys think is going to happen, and what do you think of the progression so far? More very soon, don't worry, I won't leave you hanging!

Star Wars names and concepts are owned by Lucasfilm and used for creative purposes only.  
Original names and concepts created by Tony Mancosu. Cover art by Tony Mancosu.


	5. Chapter 5

**-5-**

* * *

"Nea?!"

Memories came flooding back now, but surprisingly, that almost painful longing that he'd once felt, that he would have expected to return had he ever seen her again, was gone. Vhinh was happy to see her, after all these years, but the old feelings just weren't there. Still, he stood up, spreading his arms for a welcoming embrace, which she met with a little noticeable hesitation.

Pulling away, still holding her at arm's length, he looked at her. "Wow, you're still as beautiful as ever."

She smiled, but not the playful, flirtatious smile he remembered. That was okay, though - it would make this easier. He remembered how that smile had affected him in the past.

Although now permissible, he wasn't ready to enter into a relationship at this point in his life. Gone constantly, off on some mission or other, it was all he could do to find time to properly train his padawan, who, fortunately, was a self-starter. Not expecting to find an amazing, understanding woman like Master Ytalha's wife - who he'd had the honor of meeting on a few occasions - any time soon, Vhinh had not actively searched. The life of a Jedi in this day and age did not make it an easy pursuit, and frankly, he was much more concerned with worldly, rather than personal, matters. If he was meant to fall in love with someone, he'd concluded, they would find each other.

"So what brings you here? Are you still hard at work on Hethsba?" he asked, still interested in what was going on in her life after all these years.

The cleanup, terraforming, re-fertilization and re-seeding project on Hethsba had made great progress, but there was still much to be done. It had actually been halted a few times due to financial complications, and many believed it would never be completed, that Hethsba was just a symbol of a falling, decaying Republic.

"Oh, I'm not there anymore. I'm doing something else - I really can't talk about it. You understand," she said, more a statement than a question.

"Uh, sure, yeah."

"But look at you - not a padawan anymore, huh? Your hair's longer, you need to shave...,"

"Yeah, it's been a busy couple days."

She smiled, a little hint of her old self, "So, should I call you 'Master' Skywalker, now, or..."

"That's my title... but you can still call me Vhinh, if you want." Not really feeling like he'd received any kind of update on her life, he urged, "So...," taking on a questioning look.

She looked away from him, her body language now meek, fidgeting; as if afraid of what she had to say. "Listen, Vhinh, the reason I came... and _don't _make me regret this -," she gave him a hard stare, causing him to slightly recoil.

Hopefully it wasn't to try to rekindle an old flame, as he didn't know how he would answer that - without hurting her. There had been times, alone at night, gazing at the stars, when he'd actually wished she would return, and say those words. It was later that he'd realized this wasn't a longing for her, or even the feelings he'd once had, but a need to fill this void where those powerful feelings had once existed; yet not fill it, but make sense of it, for it had always bewildered him how they could disappear so quickly, leaving nothing. Always seeking answers to better understand himself, he'd come to a tentative conclusion that it had been a combination of young love and lust, within the mind of a hormone-ridden teenager, and it was his deep regret after the fact that made him reject these feelings, perhaps even subconsciously, so it seemed almost as if they'd never been there. This was the best he could come up with, and he'd had to lay the matter to rest eventually, lest he risk further damaging his own sanity.

"There's something I need to tell you," she began. "It's big... and I also have a request... maybe just as big. But you _have _to honor it."

"Okay...," he started, not sure if he should commit to something she hadn't even said yet.

"I'm just going to say it... you have a son."

Jaw dropping, eyes wide, he didn't know what to do, or say. The time when he'd actually _wished _it, in passing, came back to him. _I'm a father._

"Can I see him?" was his eventual first response.

"That's the other part, Vhinh," she began with a regretful expression, but not regretful enough. "Listen, it's really complicated," she went on.

He wanted to argue - he _so _wanted to argue, _insist _that there was nothing _complicated _about this simple request... but he decided to let her talk.

"I met someone on Hethsba. He's been there since before our son was born. He's the only father he's ever known." Not missing Vhinh's look of '_how could you- why would you do this?_', she continued, "Look, I was young, and _stupid_, and I _know_ it's no excuse, but I was _afraid _to see you again - it was hard enough to leave the first time. I was starting to fall for this guy, picking up the pieces of my life after you... I went the selfish route, okay? I wanted a normal, uncomplicated life, for me, and our son - a normal family.

"I'm sorry, Vhinh. I wish I would have just _told _you _then_. But he thinks this man - my _husband_," she said, for lack of a better term, "is his father, and to tell him differently now would _crush _him." She looked at Vhinh, with pleading eyes. It wasn't necessary, however; he didn't want to hurt this boy - his son - either, as hard as this was. His first inclination would have been to be angry, but he managed to keep it in check. Nea was probably a great mom, and the boy had a family, a normal life, all the things he'd given up. It was actually comforting, in a way.

"So, he'd be about... twelve, now?"

"Yeah."

"What's his name?"

Sada, or Nea, hesitated on this for a moment, then decided it was in the true spirit of why she'd come.

"His name is Koren."

"Koren," he repeated. _Koren_. It sounded so noble - he'd always liked the name. In fact, before he'd known his Master's real name to be Sae, he'd thought of him as a _Koren_. He didn't know why. "I really like that."

Sada wanted to laugh. Explain the reason for the name - the first syllable, _Kor_, taken from _Korriban_, birthplace of the Sith, home of the Sith Empire in its golden age, a symbol of the rebirth of this great empire. Instead, she said, "It fits him well."

Vhinh imagined a smaller version of himself, named Koren, discovering things for the first time, possessing a special advantage that many younglings didn't have.

"So, is he...," he imitated a few lightsaber movements.

"No, he never expressed an interest to join the Order. So we didn't push him." She didn't even have to lie that time, though it did take significant effort to keep a straight face.

But then she really looked at him, this man, her sworn enemy, and saw the look in his eye, how he truly seemed to care already for this boy he'd never seen, take an interest in him - and it validated her reasons for meeting him. Now she almost felt a certain kinship with him, _her sworn enemy_, because they did share something - something _real_ - a love for their son, and it both comforted and tormented her. Even so - and however things may turn out - _this _was the right thing, and now nothing would convince her otherwise.

"Listen... I needed you to know he's out there... I want you to reach out to him... from afar." It sounded cold, and it was, but he knew exactly what she meant by it, and he intended to. "I wish things could be different, Vhinh... I really do," and it was true, though she couldn't say how.

Then she did something she didn't think she'd ever do, by choice - hugged a Jedi - a real, genuine hug, and whispered in his ear, "this is from Koren," a single teardrop falling onto his neck.

Hugging her back, he said, "Give him this for me." When the hug ended, he said, "I _will_ reach out to him... from afar. I'll make sure he's okay." Forcing a grim smile, she nodded her head vigorously. "Listen, Nea, do you have time for a cup of stim, or something? There's still more I want to know about him..."

"I don't think so...," then, checking her chrono, she visibly jumped. "_Oh_! I have to get back, like _now_, or my boss is going to _kill _me!" _That _wasn't a lie. As she abruptly turned and left, without so much as another word, he called after her.

"Wait, _Nea_-," but she didn't slow down, and in fact hurried her pace. "_Take care of him, Nea_!" A single wave acknowledged she'd received the message.

Then, he made a snap decision. He didn't know exactly why he decided to tail her, but he knew it would likely be his only chance.

* * *

Master Skywalker had told him to take some time off and see Edala, but Jhan was already set on spending some time in the archives. This time, he had not asked, but simply informed Vhinh that this was what he intended to do. Vhinh had not made an issue of the matter, knowing Jhan was already under enough stress. _Knowledge is the path to truth_, after all.

Already well-versed in history, which had an overall favorable view of the Jedi, he decided to start with current events. The archives, once containing material primarily suiting the Jedi views, now contained almost any published media of every type, whether being the printed word, sound bites, or holo. Even a considerable amount of material on Sith philosophy could be found, though censored to some degree, as many of the words and viewpoints were considered volatile and dangerous in the wrong hands. Only the highest level masters, upon approval by the high council, were granted access to the full, unabridged data.

There were, however, other ways to obtain this information, if one knew where to look.

Jhan's focus, however, was not on the Sith, but the Jedi, at this point. In his research, he encountered recurring themes of Jedi failures, constantly misguided and outdone by bounty hunters, and, most recently, the up and coming chrome guard commissioned by business tycoon Eulian Tratzel. He read on the fall of the Galactic Peacekeepers and all the events leading up to it. There were no links to speak of, though, only speculation. The fact that the Bounty Hunters Guild was a loosely regulated organization, at times being tied to cartel activity, was no secret. It was possible, and not unheard of, that the cartels were conspiring with the bounty hunters against the Jedi, but it had started with the disbanding of the Peacekeepers - was it even a remote possibility that the cartels had orchestrated that? Or had they simply seen an opportunity and jumped on it? Either way, they were flourishing.

The most disturbing article he'd read, however, had involved his own master. The battle of Muunilinst. The official story was that a mixed group of Jedi and bounty hunters had slaughtered over a hundred cartel members in the halls of the main control terminal building of the control sector for the Intergalactic Banking System. There were no survivors, other than a scattered few found outside the building and those pulled out of the control room by a group of bounty hunters, who had ended the hostage situation quickly and with no bloodshed.

His own master had been in that building. Said to be a grisly scene, he didn't know how his master had come to terms with his involvement in this. It reminded him of the incident at Kabrack, only ten-fold. Jhan didn't know how he would have dealt with it.

Despite the Jedi's intentions, it seemed like insanity to keep going about things the way they were - it was only getting worse, and those ideals they fought to uphold, in many cases they were only aiding in the destruction of them. It didn't seem like the Jedi were doing anything about it, either. Still, in their defense, what could they do? And what was Jhan supposed to do with all this information?

It seemed clear to him that the Jedi were no longer serving the good of the Republic, as they once had. No doubt it was their intent, but intention did not always equate with execution.

Masters Ytalha and Skywalker seemed to be of the same mind, intent to - what? Wait it out? Continue to be part of travesties like the one today? He couldn't do it. All the training he had been through had not prepared him for this.

Perhaps what he needed was wisdom from another source - one that had been at this temple longer than any of them. Jhan had heard stories of Master Zuma Herrod in his younger years. He'd been a fierce warrior, well-disciplined and seemed to embody all that the Order stood for. He was no longer deployed, he no longer formally instructed, but he remained an active member of the Council. He may have some insight to offer with all his age and wisdom.

Reaching the Council chambers, he found them empty. That could only mean Master Herrod had retired to his private quarters. When Jhan had been a younger padawan, Zuma Herrod had intimidated him, and the thought of approaching his private quarters - well, he'd have saved his queries for another day. But after today, Jhan wasn't afraid of anything. So, he made his way to the old Trandoshan's quarters.

Waving for the door chime, he waited a moment, but there was no answer. Taking a deep breath, he waved again.

This time, a voice sounded over the room's com. "Go away!"

Pressing the talk button, Jhan begged, "Please, sir - uh, Master Herrod, may I have just a moment of your time?"

No answer. _Great_. _So now the old man's just going to ignore me_. Halfway tempted to wave the chime again, he decided not to out of respect for the old master.

When he was about to walk away, the door did indeed open - and there stood one angry old Trandoshan, nearly causing Jhan to flinch. But upon seeing the boy, his features changed.

"Ah, Jhanopellis Udo, is it?"

"Yes, Master," he said, looking up to the man with uncertainty.

"I've heard only good things about you, son. Please, come in." The old man stepped aside and waved him in.

"Uh... okay." Not expecting the Trandoshan to be so inviting, especially after his initial protest, Jhan carefully stepped into the room, as if afraid to further disturb the old man.

"Jhanopellis Udo, yes, yes," the old man repeated, hobbling to a large chair laden with blankets. "Please, do have a seat, my boy."

Jhan did as instructed, finding another chair just as large as the other. He'd never seen Zuma this accommodating, though admittedly he'd probably only ever exchanged all of two words with the old man.

"So, how goes the training, son?"

Jhan shrugged. "Okay, I guess."

"Ah, better than okay, from what I hear. You may soon be ready for the trials at the rate you're going."

"Maybe."

Zuma regarded him curiously. "Something troubles you, young one. Well, no need to be shy - come on, then, spit it out."

So Jhan told him about his deployment that day. He told him about the disturbing information he'd found in the archives. He left out, however, his own thoughts on the matter, for one because he wanted an un-biased opinion, and two because he really wasn't sure how an old-timer like Zuma would react to such thoughts.

Upon hearing Jhan's words, Zuma's demeanor changed. "I'm going to tell you something, son," he began. "That business with the Peacekeeper shutdown, I told them it was bad news from the beginning. 'Oh, we can handle it, la de da' they say. And now look - the galaxy is in shambles!" He raised his arms in frustration.

Then he leaned in closer to Jhan, as if afraid someone might hear. "The Jedi can be _fools_, at times - _especially_ when they're out of their element. They fight, and fight, and love, and hug and kiss, then do it some more. And when that doesn't work for them, what do they do?" The old man stopped and looked at him, and Jhan wasn't sure if the question was intended for him.

"The same thing!" the old man answered for him. "It's no wonder they've come close to extinction so many times! With what's going on right now, why I - well let's just say, had this been in my day, I'd have left the Order long ago rather than be a part of this nonsense!"

Jhan was confused. "But, Master Herrod, I mean... you're still part of the Order." Jhan didn't want to offend, but he needed answers.

"Yes, I realize that, son. I have nowhere to go. What's an old man like me to do out there? I'll hold my seat in the Council, and I'll offer my opinions. Whether they choose to listen, well, let them continue to make their own foolish mistakes."

"So, what would you have them do, Master?"

"Bah! It wouldn't matter anyway, Jedi will be Jedi. It's too ingrained into them. By the time they finally see the light of day, it may be too late. But let me ask _you _something, young one."

"What is it, Master Herrod?"

"If you could do _anything _in this galaxy, what would it be?"

Jhan straightened up, speaking with conviction. "I want to put an end to all the evil in the galaxy. I want to make it safe for everyone to live in."

Master Herrod laughed a little, but quickly became serious. "That's a tall order, indeed, son. But you could - at least make a difference out there. One with your talents - one who knows how to think for himself," he said, tapping the boy's forehead. "Now who says the Order is the only way to achieve that? There are men and women out there, making a difference, and they're not all Jedi."

"Master?" Jhan took on a look of shock.

"I know, I know. Not very fitting of a master to say to a padawan, is it? But I have watched you, Jhanopellis. I see great potential in you. Unfortunately, the way it's going, that potential may be wasted with the Order. I don't see things getting better anytime soon, young one. You could be anything you wanted to, and you deserve to be, with how hard you have worked."

"Thank you, Master. But I'm not sure that I could really leave the Order, though."

The old master gave him a look of understanding, then looked thoughtful. "Let me ask you something else, son. We know that the future is always in motion, correct?" Jhan gave a slow nod.

Master Herrod looked at him, eyes locked in a penetrating stare.

"Why, then, do the Jedi stand still?"

Ponder this question as he did, he had no answer. But somehow, he felt Master Herrod was right. This day had left him shattered, the blood on his hands, all in vain. He couldn't - he _couldn't_ go through that again. He didn't even want to _think _about it. All he wanted was to do good out there. And he knew he could. As Master Herrod had said, he didn't need the Order to do that.

That night, when the temple was quiet, he left his quarters. At war with himself, he somehow ended up at the door to Edala's quarters. He wanted to see her one last time, bid her a proper farewell, even possibly convince her to join him - but Edala hadn't been through what he had, and maybe it took something of that nature to attain his level of disillusionment. She would only try to convince him to stay, and it would only make things harder. Besides, he didn't want to be the cause of her lost faith - it had been a trying experience, one he wouldn't wish on her. If the time came, she would make the right decision - she always had.

Seeking any kind of contact with her, he placed his hand softly against her door, careful not to activate the proximity sensor. Closing his eyes, he tried to absorb any lingering essence of her he could. The memories, the laughter, the carefree times when he just felt like a kid, able to put his responsibilities to the back of his mind, and just have fun.

"I love you, Dal," he said softly, "no matter what happens, I'll always be with you," in the true spirit of his master's words.

Giving her door one last look, he slowly turned away, and moved on.

Wherever this new path took him, he would stay true to the ideals he had always believed in, but he wouldn't do it with an order that was failing those very ideals. As he took one final walk through the main hall of the temple and out the entrance, he didn't look back; and the temple became smaller, then smaller, before finally fading away into obscurity.

* * *

Notes: Okay, guys... if you've been following this, I thank you very much, and warn you that the next chapter contains some shockers! What do you think so far? Let me know!

Star Wars names and concepts are owned by Lucasfilm and used for creative purposes only.  
Original names and concepts created by Tony Mancosu. Cover art by Tony Mancosu.


	6. Chapter 6

**-6-**

* * *

Already panicking, Sada hastily programmed the coordinates to one of their rendezvous points, where she was to be waiting for Darth Sceptaurus following Eulian Tratzel's appearance on _Affair Galactic_. Preferring the security and anonymity of a Tekdaemon-controlled sector, he'd had her drop him off there where he would don the guise of the businessman, so he could in no way be traced back to the uncharted world Xadox. Tratzel being an important man, most who saw him had to settle for holo transmission, but when his personal attendance was required, this was the procedure they followed. All of his assets were accounted for this way, with no loose ends, and as an added security measure, his Tekdaemons made sure no outside parties came in sniffing around where they shouldn't. The system worked well.

Unknown to Sada, however, was her unexpected visitor. A visitor who had tracked her ship, traced its hyperspace coordinates, and was staying just out of range of its radar.

* * *

Vhinh wasn't sure exactly what he planned to do, or why he had taken such drastic steps. Did he plan to continue following her, trying to gain as much information as he could about their lives, perhaps even confront them one day, or 'arrange' a meeting? No, nothing like that at all. Watch over them? Possibly. He just had this uneasy feeling that their impromptu meeting had ended too abruptly, that he hadn't really gotten enough information, considering she was the mother to his own son, a son he only just recently learned existed. He wanted some kind of link, just as an added insurance policy, to put his mind at ease. What he would do with the information regarding their whereabouts he didn't know at this time, but he would carefully consider the right course of action at a later time. Right now, it may be his last chance to forge this link.

As his ship dropped out of hyperspace, the silhouette of the world before him seemed familiar. Yes, he'd been here before, years ago, but it had long since been all but abandoned by the Republic, surrendered to the Tekdaemons, yet another casualty in long, failing campaign.

What, then, was Nea doing here, on an unsafe world such as this, a world ruled by crime and corruption, on which few would reside by choice? Nea, a promising college student when he'd met her, who had received a most certainly lucrative job offer years ago - where had her life taken a wrong turn? Was she involved in some way with this element? _No,_ there was no way. Still, he was learning a lot of hard lessons on this little excursion, including the fact that the shuttle she piloted was in fact registered under someone else's name - one by the name of Sada Ilaros. Was it a relative? He realized in the short time he'd gotten to know her, the subject of her last name had somehow never come up. Or had she lied about her name from the beginning? He quickly dismissed the latter. There was no way the warm, caring person he'd known would have done that to him. Why would she have? Unless she was guarding some secret from the very beginning. Vhinh decided he couldn't rule anything out at this point, and it made him even more curious, and more intent on learning as much as he could about this person.

When he reached a certain point, however, many of his doubts were laid to rest - in the form of several warning shots directed at him.

Over his ship's open com channel, a voice instructed, "You have no authorization to be here. Turn back immediately, or you'll be shot down," while Nea's, or _Sada's_ ship casually proceeded through.

He still had a trace on her, but it would only go so far, and he didn't want to draw her attention by provoking the engaging ships. He began a slow, wide turn, taking note of Nea's trajectory. Before the range of his trace was cut off, however, he caught the beginning of an incoming transmission to her ship's com. It was only a snippet, not even a full syllable, and the only thing he could guess was that the voice had belonged to a man. Apparently this was all the more information he would gather here.

Completing the turn, he proceeded to make the jump off-planet. Being sure to save the sound clip in the ship's internal memory, he punched in the coordinates that would take him back home. Later, he would transfer the sound clip to his personal datacorder and run it through the archive database, seeing if there were any matches. This had quickly turned from a personal quest to a security issue.

Going through all the possibilities in his head, he again questioned if he had really known anything about Nea. Had what she'd told him been true, and her life had taken a drastic turn since he'd last seen her? Or had she lied to him from the beginning? If so, it brought up other questions. In any case, she had no loyalties to him, but an obligation to their son, which was his biggest concern on the matter._ What if there is no son?_ He chased that thought out of his mind. After all, why would she go to all that trouble just to inform him of a son he was forbidden from knowing?

Thinking about the son he'd never known, his thoughts quickly drifted back to Jhan. The boy was indeed in a bad place, and for all his knowledge and training, he didn't know how to get him through it, other than simply being there for him and guiding him as best as he knew how.

* * *

When Vhinh returned to the temple, it was in the wee hours of the morning. He knew he should get some rest, but his thoughts were still on Jhanopellis. If he knew Jhan, he wouldn't be sleeping either, tormenting himself with the tragic event that had taken place that day.

Deciding to check on him before retiring for the night, he went to the door of his quarters, waving for the door chime. Hopefully Jhan wasn't already asleep and woken up by the disturbance. He waited a minute, but there was no answer. Half tempted to leave and just let the boy sleep, something told him to persist. Entering a four-digit override on the door's control panel, he entered the room.

Even before he activated the light, he knew something was wrong - he didn't feel Jhan's presence.

"Jhan?" he called softly, tentatively, almost an automatic reaction. No answer, as he feared.

When he did activate the light, he saw only an empty room, and where Jhan would have lay, a single sheet of flimsiplast.

"Oh, no..." His feet carried him to the bed, but his mind felt numb, as if his head was just along for the ride. He finally forced himself to pick up the note.

_I had to follow my own path._

_I'll always remember what you said._

_Thank you for all you've given me._

_I'm sorry, Master._

_Please tell Edala I'll miss her deeply._

He read the words over and over, but the outcome was the same. Jhan had left the temple, and the Order - and _him_.

Maybe it wasn't too late, though. Who knows when he'd left. He couldn't have gotten far. Turning around, Vhinh hurried out of the room, only to find Edala, standing there, just outside the door.

"Edala, what are you doing up?"

"I woke up for some reason, and I couldn't get back to sleep."

A sudden look of concern - no, _dread_ - crossed her face. She opened her mouth to speak, but struggled to find the words, as if to do so would open the flood gates to a finality she wasn't ready to face.

"Where's Jhan?"

* * *

"You _went _to _see _him?!" Darth Sceptaurus seethed, in disbelief at the display of recklessness and independent thought shown to him by Sada, his long-time apprentice and lover.

"I... thought I could do it, my lord... deny his origins, reinvent his life, his entire story, like we talked about. But a part of me that I'd long since dismissed had resurfaced, and it _haunted _me, _drained _me, warping my perception."

"And what part do you speak of? Do you _love _him, this _Jedi_," he queried, somewhat amused by the prospect.

"_No_, nothing like _that_... but, deny it as I may, I can't escape the fact that I... am a mother. And my son can't be unknown to his father, no matter _who _he is!"

"You know, I half expected as much, Sada. The Sith are not maternal. This goes against our entire nature. It's funny, really. You, me, _him_, our _son_... we were all part of a grand plan, but somewhere in the process, the plan went through... changes. I had taken a liking to you, call it what you will, though I'd already run every possibility through my head a thousandfold. The prevailing thought did not favor this union, Sada. But I waited it out - after all, you'd proven to be a good student, with promising talents. Maybe I needed to be sure... but it's funny how things will work themselves out, isn't it?"

"My lord?" Sada grew tense, now, stepping back every so slightly, into a more defensive stance.

"I suppose now is as good a time as any to tell you, Sada. How you came to be - how you became my apprentice."

"It is still clear in my mind, my lord. What exactly are you _speaking_ of?"

"Clear in your mind... or _put _there?"

Her eyes grew wide, and her head swam. _No _- that couldn't be true. What did he mean? There was too much, there was -

"Remember when I told you the cloning machine had been operational for awhile, Sada?" A wide grin spread over his face. He was actually _enjoying_ this.

"You're _lying_! Why are you doing this?!" she panicked.

"I had to test it, didn't I? Before putting so much at stake? Had to see how _accurately_ it could duplicate the essence of a Force user, like Mr. Skywalker. You weren't the first... _product _of this experiment. There were tweaks, here and there, that had to be made. You were the finished product, however; the first example I was pleased with. One that served a dual purpose, for you would be my new apprentice. Sometimes, I forgot you were a clone, even allowed myself to development a sort of _attachment_ to you. Quite silly, wouldn't you say?"

"You _found _me, when I was a young woman, with no direction, and you _showed _me things, gave me a purpose - gave me _power_, and opened up an entire new world of possibility to me!" Those words, an attempt to convince herself as much as deny what he'd just revealed - hung in the air, and she dissected them as they slowly lost their resolve. _That _was her life, it _had _to be, it was all she knew! She couldn't let go of that - of everything - everything she'd known.

"An ideal narrative, wasn't it? Perfectly suited to my purposes and ensuring your ties - and loyalty - to me. No, my dear... you really had no life to speak of, before you emerged from that tube, a fully grown adult specimen."

To hear him speak of her this way - as if speaking of an inanimate object, like a speeder, or a chair, _this, _the man who, despite his prevalent callousness, she'd actually _felt _something for, at one time, and maybe still did - it tore at her. She'd actually believed there could be a union of this sort, a family, like the one they'd spoken of, ruling together, having all they could possibly desire, and more they shouldn't, for these types of thoughts were akin to taboo in the language of the Sith. Maybe in the back of her mind she'd known this could never come to fruition; that the plans of mutiny she'd entertained in her darkest, most private moments - she'd kept them well hidden - were more than just facetious musings, but an eventuality she wasn't yet ready to face.

She needed to know more, now, about the pieces of her puzzle that she hadn't even begun to come to grips with, to find some link with her humanity after having that concept brutally shattered before her.

"What... was I? My subject? Who was she... where did you find her?"

He only gazed at her with that same satisfied grin. Whatever it was, it might be hard to swallow, for he apparently took great pleasure in the thought.

Her pain at this feeling of betrayal by one she'd previously felt such a profound bond with was now quickly fading, replaced by an intense anger, of which he was well aware. After all, it was he who taught her to nurture this anger, feeding her dark power, and he'd learned to identify those telltale signs in her; eyes no longer animated but fixed in a cold stare, an ever so slight chewing of her bottom lip, and an unconscious flicking of her long fingernails across her palm. He let it gather longer, the hatred, the rage, as if testing - _taunting_ - her, with the unspoken weight of his next bombshell.

"_Jedi_."

_Jedi_. A seemingly nonsensical, non-contextual answer to her questions, which managed to convey all that he wished to say. The smallest spark of electricity began to draw at his fingertips.

"_What?!_" was her automatic response, though she already knew just what he meant. Her own dark energy now slowly gathered.

"You know, there was always some speculation as to whether or not a clone retains a piece of its subject's former consciousness, whether subliminally or otherwise. Is it a tangible thing, existent in this realm we know, or a simple consequence of the collective physical and chemical processes occurring within the brain?

"So I ask you, now, _Jedi_, how did it feel, to be stolen away in the night from a place warm and familiar, as a young woman, a promising Jedi barely out of her teens? To be bound and held captive in some strange place, mentally tormented with the knowledge of what you were to become... until finally falling into a deep sleep, only to eventually awaken in a different body... your own... but _not_?"

"_You lie," _she hissed.

"I'm afraid not, Sada. Or should I say, _Ikara_. You can look it up, it was all over the holonet, some three decades ago. The 'mysterious disappearance' of Ikara Genas, a young Jedi knight. Of course, that's only circumstantial, but I do have a bit of _physical _evidence, as well. A piece of you that will always be a part of me," he continued, now slowly running his thumb and forefinger over the hideous scar he wore.

"You see, it was _you_ that gave me this, Sada - the very scar you've caressed in tender moments, taken as a sign of my mortality - the one time I freed you from your restraints. I didn't have lifetimes to acquire my female apprentice - I only had one chance at this, once my plan was set into motion.

"I'd originally planned on turning Ikara Genas to the dark side to fill that role. She said all the right things, had me convinced she could be turned. I still don't know how she kept that blade from my notice all that time, but she didn't hesitate to use it, the first chance she got. There wouldn't be another. It was then I decided she'd make the ideal test subject, and I'd have a new, pliable mind to impose my will upon. I regretted not going that route from the beginning, but this scar does have its uses..."

"Why did you need _me_, then? Why not steal one of the _Skywalker _bloodline in the same manner you did with _my _subject?"

"Because I needed a completely fresh mind, to raise from infancy, uncorrupted by Jedi ideals, _untouched _by the light side of the Force, to mold and bend as I saw fit; a _Sith _from _birth_. Amazing how things work out, isn't it? Once our _son _learns of his mother's death, killed by his _real _father, a _Jedi_, well, that should be just the push he needs to unlock his full potential, now, shouldn't it?"

Sada had flown through a range of emotions in this dialogue, which had now manifested into a deep, hate-filled rage for this man, everything he stood for, everything he'd robbed her of, with those words and even before she'd ever known. To tell her the only life she ever knew was a lie, that she'd once been something she was taught to hate, then of his horrible treatment of that person, of which they would have laughed had it been a different time, but this person was _her - _or an element of her, the closest thing to humanity she'd ever had - a link to a forgotten past; this only helped channel her growing rage. But to use this, and her, to further damage her own son, a child she'd loved with all her being, though chastised if ever displaying it openly, to manipulate him this way when she may no longer be around to protect him - she couldn't take it anymore.

"_You bastard!" _she screamed, just as she unleashed a burst of lightning from the very core of her being, a messenger to convey all the hatred he'd invoked in her.

He never got the message, though; moving with an other-worldly swiftness, sidestepping a nanosecond before its moment of unquestionably painful contact. As she let forth another burst, then another, he performed the same evasive action, seemingly effortlessly, then retorted with only an amused smile. The next burst, all that Sada could muster, quite possibly had the potential to end even a powerful Sith lord such as Darth Sceptaurus, had he not countered with his own force storm, meeting and engulfing her own - seeming to devour it, then expanding to consume her, as well, lighting the entire room with its violent energy. Bathed in the luminous lavender glow, his now cackling visage appeared as a haunting avatar for all the evil in the universe. Slowly feeling her weakening body give out, she slumped to the floor, now on hands and knees. The dark energy penetrated her skin, began twisting her face, breaking down her mask to reveal a hint of her true image beneath; then he abruptly stopped.

"Almost forgot. We want you to still be _recognizable_, don't we?" As she gasped for breath, now feeling sickly and weak, she didn't have time to react before a phantom hand was wrapped firmly around her throat. "If it's any consolation, _my dear_, you may comfort yourself with the knowledge that you aided in the construction of the new Sith Empire. Your son, of course, will have a large role in all of this as well. Until I end him, too."

There she lay, now collapsed on her side, powerless to do anything but meet his unfeeling stare, her eyes pleading in desperation with every last fleeting ounce of strength, not for her own life, but that of her son. There was no regret in her final moment, for she'd been cast into this life before even becoming aware. Her final thoughts were only of him.

* * *

Darth Sceptaurus knew the matter at hand must be handled very delicately, lest he risk losing the boy forever. Though he'd strongly discouraged any show of love and tenderness with him, he needed to play the role of the sympathetic parental figure, in order to ensure Koren's continued loyalty to him. He was well aware of the affection communicated by Sada to the boy, despite attempts to keep him ignorant - he hadn't missed the secretive glances, perfectly conveying a loving mother/son tie; it sickened him. It was in light of these observations that he'd decided with certainty she would need to be eliminated, as she was becoming a liability. Only later did he fully grasp the extent to which this could be used to his advantage.

All the angst, the hatred, the blame for his mother's untimely death, needed to be directed away from him, and planted squarely where it would be most effective - on the Jedi - and he'd need to be the one who offered that lost sense of security; who the boy could look to for guidance in coping with his loss, and focus in his future pursuits. Sceptaurus had to appear impacted by the loss, as well, so Koren would relate to him in their shared grief. Sadly, he would also have to fake this; her death to him was merely a sacrifice made in the name of his larger plan. He had, in fact, taken a liking to her, enjoying her company, appreciating certain aspects of her, even at times the way she doted on him, though he secretly despised the way she used the word _love_, having never once used it himself during all their time together. It often surprised him how little he had to pretend in order to gain her affections; she'd practically fallen right into his hands. Of course, she hardly loved him, or _lusted _after him, for his _personality_ - of this he was well aware. The arrangement had worked well - they'd simply meshed - but it had run its course. When Koren arrived, the dynamics had changed.

Entering the boy's chamber, he was greeted with an almost immediate inquisition.

"Where's mother?" Koren asked, a worried look already showing on his face. He'd sensed something earlier that left him unsettled, but had been instructed to continue training in his chamber until told otherwise. Now, for his father to even set foot in his chamber was a rare occasion - he couldn't remember the last time he had.

The look said it all. A sadness - almost softness - (_weakness) _in his father's eyes, a forlorn expression; he knew something was terribly wrong, as he'd feared.

"Sit down," he said blankly. Koren did as he was told, taking a seat on the bed, and Sceptaurus joined him. Though he respectfully waited for the words, inside his head, he screamed - for him to get it over with, for it to _please _not be what he so feared. "I'll not make this harder than it need be, Koren." _That_ was a lie. "You already know, don't you?"

The boy looked to him, in a panic, not ready to face the possibility. "_What_?"

Sceptaurus only met his gaze with a knowing look.

"No." Koren shook his head. _This wasn't happening! _It didn't feel real. His head was in a fog, fading in and out - it could have been a dream - but then this sudden wave of agonizing pain made it real, and when he again focused on his father's face, only to see him slowly nodding his head in reluctant affirmation, a look of - _was it weakness? _- or the closest he'd ever seen to it from this man.

Koren only stared, then - stared into Darth Sceptaurus's condemning face. His lip quivered, and finally, he let out a long, piercing scream. He didn't care how weak and childish it made him sound. Tears now poured from his eyes, and he began viciously beating on his father's chest. Let Darth Sceptaurus kill him, if only to bring reality to this haze he fell in and out of - for if this was his true reality, he would rather die! His father roughly threw his arms around him, trapping him, practically suffocating him - but somehow comforting him.

When Koren's muffled sobs became only slightly less frantic against Darth Sceptaurus's chest, the Sith lord interrupted. "Koren." One of the only times he'd used the boy's name. Releasing the boy from his grasp, he held him at arm's length, wiping a tear from his face. "Koren, there is more you must know, son."

When the space between the boy's sobs grew, Sceptaurus planted the next one on him. "Your mother was _murdered_... by a _Jedi_." As these words hit him, Koren's eyes widened, and he drew longer and deeper breaths. As if attempting to diffuse the boy's impending explosion, Sceptaurus put up a calming hand.

"That Jedi, Koren... is your biological father."

The boy's expression didn't change; it remained frozen on his face, but his breathing stopped. Sceptaurus waited. Finally, the boy gasped, nearly choking on his own breath, and began slowly shaking his head.

"No... but _you_..."

Darth Sceptaurus now slowly shook his head, with a regretful look. "I'm not your father, Koren. I'm sorry, I wish it were so."

He wasn't sorry, though, because he knew the knowledge of his real father would only add to the boy's already growing anger. And he was right.

Koren abruptly stood up and screamed, "_You lied to me! Why did you lie to me?!" _He turned his attention to his dresser, and anything else not anchored down, and began hurling things, through the Force, across the room. Then, he grabbed his bed with both hands, Sceptaurus still on it, and attempted to lift it off the floor.

Sceptaurus rose, and an invisible hand shoved Koren hard against the wall, pinning him. "_Enough_, boy!" This was the Darth Sceptaurus Koren knew. "Now, you will sit - and you will _listen_. Understood?"

Koren's face remained defiant, and Sceptaurus gradually applied more pressure, until the boy's resolve broke, and he nodded his head in concession. When Koren finally sat down, Sceptaurus's face once again softened, or at least became less menacing, and he approached the boy, crouching before him.

"Your mother and I... we wanted to tell you when you were older, and better prepared. I _saved_ her from the oppression of the Jedi, and we went into hiding so that one day we could rise up and create a new Sith Empire, where we could once again live freely.

"The Jedi do not understand the Sith - they see us as evil, mindless, bloodthirsty savages, with no semblance of reason whatsoever. They will kill anyone bearing the very name of the Sith without question, without provocation. That is why we seek to liberate the galaxy from their tyranny.

"We kept you a secret from the Jedi. Had they known of your existence, they would have tried to take you, and your fate would be the same as your mother's. They lured her back to them for the sole purpose of making sure she'd never leave them again." His face was now remorseful, and he paused. "She was found near the Jedi temple on Fi'ar'la, the same temple where your father trains. A Jedi known as _Vhinh Skywalker._"

Koren's eyes went wide with disbelief. That meant - _he _was a _Skywalker_. He'd heard enough about the Skywalker line - but was told not to believe Jedi and Republic propaganda, and had been told the real truth behind the many lies. The first Skywalker, at least the first worth mentioning, was indeed born of the Force, willed into existence by a great Sith lord for the purpose of one day cleansing the galaxy of the Jedi forever. Unfortunately, the Jedi got to him first. Betrayed and crippled and left for dead by his own master and friend, his own children were then stolen away only moments after their birth by that same Jedi, who then murdered his wife. He found salvation in Darth Sidious, who showed him the ways of the Sith, gave him a new body, and together, they rebuilt the great Galactic Empire, once again restoring peace to the galaxy. However, Vader's children, corrupted by the Jedi, joined the extremist group known as the Rebellion in a plot to overthrow the rightful Emperor, and Vader and Sidious were slain by Vader's own son.

Darth Sceptaurus allowed this new development to sink in, confident he had taught Koren well. "Now you understand why you are so important, don't you? You are a new hope for the Sith - possibly the last."

Koren stared at him, and a brooding scowl swept over his face. He then spoke slowly and deeply. "I want to _kill_ this Jedi... my... father."

Darth Sceptaurus smiled approvingly. "You will, my boy... you will... but you must be patient, for you are not yet ready. One day, he _will_ die by your hand. They will _all_ fall." He rose to his feet. "I shall leave you alone with your thoughts, now, as you have much to process."

Making his way to the door, he added, as if an afterthought, "We shall build a great Empire together, Koren. It is what your mother would have wanted... she _will _be avenged."

Evident by Koren's face, he had stuck a vibro-blade in the still fresh wound. _Good_.

As he waved the door closed and started down the hall, he heard a frenzied scream, followed by sounds of objects crashing against walls, in between pitiful, gasping sobs. A cruel smile played on his lips, and he silently congratulated himself. _Perfectly executed; so much _anger_..._ Darth Sceptaurus was on the verge of creating one of the most powerful Sith lords - ever.

* * *

Notes: Were you guys ready for that? Dying to know what you're thinking so far, so drop me a short review! Thanks for reading, more soon.

Star Wars names and concepts are owned by Lucasfilm and used for creative purposes only.  
Original names and concepts created by Tony Mancosu. Cover art by Tony Mancosu.


	7. Chapter 7

**-7-**

* * *

They had combed the streets until well after dawn, searching for any trace of him, asking passers-by, mostly vagrants or drunks by that time, stopping into any businesses that remained open. They had even checked the spaceport. No boy matching his description was seen boarding any ship.

He had been set on leaving, and whatever he was doing to avoid detection, he was doing it well. When Jhan set his mind to something, he didn't fail. This was the only instance when his master would have called that a bad thing.

He could be anywhere. Maybe he'd gone into hiding, anticipating their search, until he thought he could go about unnoticed. Or he could be even further away than they thought. Traveling mostly by speeder, they'd covered a large radius around the temple, but who knows which way he'd headed. Their paths could have easily crossed unknowingly.

When Vhinh saw her stifle yet another yawn, he asked, "Do you want to keep looking, or take a break for now?"

"Maybe take a break for now," she said in a meek tone.

Though he wouldn't say it, Vhinh took pity on her. The poor girl had lost her best friend today, or more like her soul-mate. Why would Jhan do this? Just looking at Edala wrenched his heart, and he knew Jhan cared for her deeply. But he also knew the answer.

Jhan had put his training and dedication to his beliefs above all else. No doubt he would have put his own life on the line for Edala, but he would have done the same for the Order.

Jhan had lost something that day, something profound. Vhinh had seen it. He almost wished he'd kept a closer watch over him, but he'd sensed Jhan had wanted time to himself. Yes, Jhan would follow his own path. He always had, in a way.

"Listen, Edala," he said as they neared the temple, "there's something I need to do, but I won't be too long. We can talk some more after that, if you'd like."

"Okay," she said despondently.

The two beings at the temple closest to Jhan, they needed each other right now. He may have needed her as much as she needed him.

At the present, though, he planned on entering a deep meditation, to reach out through the Force - to his two lost sons.

* * *

Koren awoke and couldn't see. His eyes were swollen and crusted over. He didn't know when he'd passed out, but he still remembered his dream vividly. Trying to get to the surface, after his mother, afraid she was leaving him, he'd caught a glimpse of her, but before he could reach her, one of the chrome guard stood in his way. Forced to kill them, he felt his anger grow every time another blocked his path. He continued to pursue her, but with each chrome guard he'd slain, he felt a surge of power, growing alongside his intense anger, until that was all he cared about - killing them - _killing them all_! He'd forgotten about her, now, until he caught one final glimpse - and she was crying out to him, as if in pain; telling him to hurry. He rushed to her, but he was no longer himself; he was his father. He was Darth Sceptaurus. She kept calling out to him, but he didn't know how to save her. Then all the chrome guards he'd killed sat up, removing their masks - and they had her face. All they said was 'He will be there' and then they were gone, and he'd woken up... and now it hit him -

A new wave of pain, perhaps more intense than the first, because it was real - it was too late for denial. He felt a gaping hole through his midsection - just emptiness, and he longed to feel once again. Out of tears, he broke down again, a series of dry, choking sobs. He pounded his fists on the bed at his sides, shaking his head, as if trying to make it all go away. Then he lay there, in a long moment of silence.

Able to open his eyes now, it made no difference; he still lay in darkness. Alone. He reached under his bed, remembering he'd stashed his bounty hunter figurine there when he'd heard his door open - just in case. Now it was all he had left of her. Then he felt his lightsaber. The lightsaber he'd painstakingly crafted, had been so proud of... so proud he'd rushed to show his father.

Darth Sceptaurus had only laughed, saying, "And what exactly do you plan to do with _that_, boy?" and walked away. Those words had conveyed all his insecurities, all the things he already _knew _Sceptaurus felt about him. He just wasn't good enough.

Now, he picked up the lightsaber, brought it up to study it. _So much power_. Power he, at least in Darth Sceptaurus's eyes, wasn't yet ready to wield. He lay back, drawing the weapon toward him. Pressing the top of the hilt against him, he felt the cold chrome on his bare stomach. Just a press of a button and there would be no more pain. He could join her, in the netherworld, where the spirits of all Sith go to rest. The Correllians of old called it _Hell_; as forboding as that seemed, he couldn't think of a place he'd rather be right now. His finger traced the circle of the ignition switch. A gateway; a release; the only thing that stood between him and happiness, so he chose to believe. It taunted him - so he taunted it back. He allowed his finger to rest on it fully. Then he applied the faintest amount of pressure; and released it.

Playing out a little fantasy in his head, he imagined his father - _surrogate _father, the term had still not sunk in - entering his room at that moment. Darth Sceptaurus would try to stop him, and he would only say 'Sorry that I wasn't good enough, _father_, - but I'm about to become more powerful than you can imagine.' His greatest satisfaction would be the regret on Sceptaurus's face - something he'd never seen.

Koren wondered how much pressure he could put on the switch before the weapon ignited. This would be his final game - a dark roulette with only one possible outcome. He again rested his finger on the switch, preparing to apply slightly more pressure, when he felt something.

It seemed to come from within him, but it washed over him, and with it he felt a presence. Through it he experienced feelings; serenity; warmth. Feelings he had only ever known within his mother's comforting embrace. _Was it her?_ It _had _to be - it could _only _be her. Fresh tears fell from his eyes, now, but they weren't tears of sorrow. His heart had ached for her, he missed her so much already. He'd thought he'd never be touched by those feelings of warmth again. They came with a message - not in words, but in a thought. It told him he would be okay; that someone was looking out for him. It told him that in all he did, he would be great.

He tried to send a message back. _I love you. I miss you so much._

Then the feeling was gone, and he was alone. But he'd _felt _it. It had been real. She was alive somewhere, in some other plane of existence, and she was watching him.

So now he knew what he had to do - and he needed to be alive to do it. He _would _avenge her, and he would build this great Empire in her name. And he would succeed - because she'd willed it.

* * *

The Jedi temple. A long-time symbol to her of the bureaucracy and overindulgence of the Republic. Karta didn't know exactly what she had against the Jedi. Growing up, she'd heard plenty of stories about them - who hadn't? Republic history was steeped with them. People spoke as if they were larger than life; great, wise warriors, protectors, compassionate and selfless.

When her father had asked if she'd like to meet a Jedi at one of his functions, she'd been curious and had taken the opportunity. Somehow it didn't live up to her expectations. There were two Jedi there, conversing with politicians. Sure, they had seemed nice, and warm, and maybe wise - but it was hard to say, as they were engaged in political discussion with her father and his set, and it all just sounded the same to her. Her opinion may have been colored, as she had already developed a disdain for politics in general. But seeing these 'great warriors' at the level of these politicians, it took away some of the charm. They were supposed to be protecting the best interests of the Republic, not participating in idle political chatter.

It sounded unfair, she supposed. Her father was a politician, and she'd always had the highest respect for him, mostly because she felt he had the best intentions due to his good heart. He would tell her all the problems of the political scene, of the corruption and so on - and maybe she wouldn't have always made the choices that he'd made, or maybe she didn't have a broad enough understanding to begin with, but she knew he was trying, and that was what mattered to her.

Seeing the Jedi in this light just somehow took away from the grandeur. Perhaps it was a silly thing, after all, looking back, basing an opinion of the Jedi as a whole on one first impression - because now, try as she might, she couldn't find any more likely candidate to take interest in her personal crusade. So here they were.

When they entered the temple grounds, she was actually rather surprised at the humility of the entire landscape. The turf, although well kept, was devoid of any type of ornamental topiaries, exotic plants, and so on. It did contain its share of foliage, but the naturally growing foliage she guessed was native to the planet, as it seemed very common there. Neatly trimmed, yes, but undiscriminating in terms of quality. There were a few sickly looking trees, and it was obvious care had been taken to bring them back to good health. The walkway had no fancy masonry, statues lining it or elaborate carvings, only simple poured duracrete. However, much like most any place of worship, the temple itself was a thing of beauty, a fine piece of architecture, though in no way seeming over-extravagant for what it was - an impractical symbolism that even the Jedi yet held onto.

Seeing the two obviously out-of-place bounty hunters wandering the grounds aimlessly, a young female ran up and greeted them. "Welcome," she bowed to each in turn, "how may I serve you?"

Nars responded, "Uh... we're looking for one of your masters... we have some sensitive information."

"Follow me." She motioned for them and continued toward the temple.

They headed down the walkway and through two large doors at the temple's entrance. When they reached the inside, there was a stark contrast in the decor. The walls were adorned with fine pieces of art in many mediums; paintings, intricate carvings, statues and busts, all depicting what looked to be Jedi masters of old. The materials themselves were nothing extravagant, but the quality and detail of the work was exquisite, a worthy tribute to their fallen brethren.

Reaching what appeared to be a commons area, with a circle of benches and a holo deck in the center, they saw a few Jedi sitting, engaged in conversation, stretching, or eating small meals. On one bench sat a Jedi perhaps around Karta's age, conversing with a younger female who appeared to be upset.

"Master Skywalker," their guide said as they approached the two. "I have two visitors with me. They say the have some sensitive information."

Skywalker.

Even Karta recognized that name. The bloodline of the fabled 'chosen one' who had turned to the dark side only to repent before the end of his life. She was rather confused by the whole mythos behind the story, but apparently the Jedi had good reason for putting so much stock into it. This particular Skywalker had a fairly ragged appearance, looking as if unshaven for days, with slightly curled dirty-blonde hair falling just above his shoulders. He didn't appear unclean, just not pretentiously groomed like the Jedi she'd seen as a girl, which she supposed wasn't a bad thing - it somehow made him seem real.

"Pertaining to what?" he asked, looking up from the conversation.

"We'd rather discuss the matter in private, if that's possible," Karta said, looking around.

He regarded them with a discerning eye, then turned back to the girl he sat with. "Edala, I'll be back shortly, okay?"

The girl nodded. Rising to his feet, he motioned for them to follow him. They made their way down a long hallway, intersected by another smaller hallway, with rows of doors on either side. Stopping at one door, he waved it open and stepped aside to let them in. It led to a small room, empty save for a few stone benches.

"I'll ask that you remove your helmet. I don't conduct business with anonymous parties," he said as he entered the room, waving the door closed behind him.

Karta complied, pulling off her helmet, brushing the stray hair off her face. The Jedi seemed to take notice, for a brief second, which Karta didn't think much of. She was well aware of the effect she had on men, the few that had actually seen her face. It just went to show, Jedi or not, he was still male.

The fact that he'd never scanned them for any kind of weapons must have indicated he felt confident in handling anything these two bounty hunters could throw at him.

"Just so we know who we all are - I'm Jedi Master Vhinh Skywalker. And you are?" He indicated the pair.

"Karta Oblith. This is my partner, Nars Free'ta."

He bowed his head to each in turn. "What's this information you've come to share?"

Right to the point, no pleasantries. That was fine by her. "Eulian Tratzel - you know the name?"

"Yeah, I'm familiar with him. Are his guard taking too much of your business?"

She sensed a little sarcasm in that query. "We're doing fine in that regard, thank you. It's kind of a long story."

"Well keep it short," he said curtly.

"Okay, then...," she said, a bit annoyed. "He bribed a senator, the same senator who proposed the bill to cut the Peacekeeper program, who's now dead, by the way, he sent the Tekdaemons after me, who I've been running from for the last twelve years, and, well, considering his current political agenda, I thought that might be of interest to you, as he may not be the ideal candidate for the job."

"Okay, wait... he sent the _Tekdaemons_ after you? Why do you think that?"

"Uh, because one tried to _kill_ me, minutes after I heard him trying to bribe the senator, and I'm on their _hot _list."

"And are you saying _he _killed Ayda Hynn?"

So he _did _keep up on politics. Yeah, he was a Jedi, alright.

"It makes sense. He tried to have _me _killed."

"Alright, look... do you have _proof _of any of this? These are some pretty big allegations."

"If you mean like _hard _evidence, admissible in court, then, no. I was hoping _you _could help with that."

"And what exactly would you like me to do?"

"I don't know - use your _Jedi _wisdom and insight. Advise me on the best course of action."

At that, he let out a short laugh. "You're asking me? Your kind seem to be the ones with all the information these days."

Karta looked offended. "My _kind? _Oh, the bounty hunter thing - Is that how it is?"

"No, okay. Listen, without some kind of evidence, there's really nothing I can do. You have to realize there are people everywhere gunning for Tratzel."

She made one last appeal to him, grabbing the long sleeve of his robe. "_Please_. I don't know who else to go to. The Tekdaemons want me dead - what am I supposed to do?"

"You said you've been running from them for twelve years? Keep doing what you're doing, it seems to be working. You're a bounty hunter - they're supposed to be afraid of _you_, remember?"

Karta looked incredulous. "Wow. Okay. You know what, I _get _it. _Thank you, Master Skywalker_," she said, enunciating each syllable, then turning to wave the door open. "For _nothing_," she added, only partly under her breath.

"Hey - " he called after her. Karta turned to look at him, indignant. His tone was somewhat regretful. "I'll look into it. I'm kind of in the middle of another investigation right now, but... I will. Just let me know if you think of any other relevent information, okay?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Yeah," she said caustically.

As she again spun around and stormed away, Nars shuffled past him, flashing an awkward smile and a single wave, before hurrying after her.

Leaving the temple, Karta was even more disconcerted than before. Perhaps her first impressions of the Jedi were right. Master Skywalker certainly wasn't interested in _her _problem, even though it went way beyond just herself. True, she didn't have any stone-cold proof, but couldn't he offer anything more than he had?

"Jerk," was her summation of the encounter, more out of sheer frustration than actual contempt. Nars didn't say anything.

* * *

Back aboard the ship, Nars remained silent, despite Karta's intermittent grumblings.

"Why are you so quiet?" she finally questioned.

Looking up from his reader, he took on a slightly timid _who, me? _expression. Then his tone changed. "What do you want me to say, Karta?"

"Well, you could at least be a little supportive," she riposted.

"I _have _been, for as long as I've known you. I've done things I didn't want to do. But the Jedi... they have a lot on their plate right now, you can't expect them to..."

"Woah, back up!" she broke in. "Sorry for making you do all these thing you didn't want to do! So you would take all that back? This partnership? You know, the bounty hunter thing was _your _idea to begin with, Nars."

"Hold on, Karta - that's not what I'm saying. I don't regret that, okay?"

"Then what?"

"Look, you had this personal crusade against the Tekdaemons - the cartels, when we met. And I helped you. Now we're doing what we're doing, and it's working. But suddenly it's the same thing all over, with this Tratzel guy..."

She glared at him. "It's not _suddenly_, _Nars_. It's the _same guy_!"

"I know, Karta. But don't you ever get tired of fighting - I mean fighting a battle you can't win?"

Karta now lowered her voice, but her words were even more fierce. "You don't _get _it. It never _ended _for me!" Her voice cracked, tears now running down her cheeks. "I've been living with this for _twelve years_, and my _best _friend, my _only _friend, can't even see where I'm coming from!"

"Karta - "

"No!" she cut him off. "Leave me alone!" With that, she hurried away, waving the door to the cabin area.

Nars felt horrible. He did understand how she was feeling, he'd just hoped they could find a peace of something out there, that she could be _happy _again. They had credits, they could probably retire soon. But they would both end up getting killed over all this, and she'd be no better off.

He slumped back in his chair. He'd hurt the only person he cared about, and he only wanted to steer her away from this losing struggle. What, if anything, could _he _do to make things right?

* * *

Notes: Hey again, sorry for the delay, working on a couple projects right now, but don't worry, this one is top priority until it's finished, so I won't leave you hanging.

As always, reviews and feedback are appreciated, and may motivate me to work faster :)

Star Wars names and concepts are owned by Lucasfilm and used for creative purposes only.  
Original names and concepts created by Tony Mancosu. Cover art by Tony Mancosu.


	8. Chapter 8

**-8-**

* * *

Vhinh was penitent. What kind of Jedi was he, to treat someone the way he had who'd come to him for help - it wasn't like him at all. He realized now he'd allowed himself to become wrapped up in the whole ordeal with Jhanopellis's disappearance, and it had consumed his thoughts, clouded his judgement. Sure, he may have been a little ill at ease in aiding a bounty hunter, the very source of their problems - but that wasn't true; it wasn't the bounty hunters, at least not _all _of them, there was much more to it than that.

They'd all pondered over the situation countless times, but even most Jedi couldn't deny the bounty hunters were the object for a fair amount of bitterness. This woman, though, and her partner, he'd sensed no deceit in them; they were honestly petitioning him for help on a matter which they obviously put much stock into, and he'd basically turned them away.

Joining Edala back in the main hall, he was about to tell her that, even in light of the sorrow they both still felt, it was time to get back to business as usual. Jedi didn't get a break from life when things became overwhelming, and it would be an injustice to her to act otherwise. It didn't mean giving up their search, and it didn't mean they wouldn't still be there for each other, but there were things to be done, _too _many things, in fact, and they needed to regain their focus. Before he said anything, however, a local holo news broadcast caught his attention - and it was almost like seeing a ghost.

"-_who the authorities have identified by the name Sada Ilaros, was found dead this morning, in an alley not far from the Jedi temple. The cause of death remains unknown, and autopsies are still being performed. Ms. Ilaros had no known family, and is not believed to be a citizen of Fi'ar'la. If anyone has any information on Ms. Ilaros or the events surrounding her death, they are encouraged to-"_

"Who is it, Master Skywalker?" Edala interupted his trance. "Did you know that woman?"

"Not exactly," he said absently, raising a finger to halt their dialogue while he studied the holo of the woman being shown, apparently taken from her identification file in the Galactic Database. About 20 years his senior, she'd still been a striking woman, and had the same shade of dark hair as Nea, a few streaks of white here and there. Could they be of some relation? It made sense - but there were other, much larger questions now. If this woman wasn't from Fi'ar'la, what was Nea doing piloting her shuttle, _to _Fi'ar'la, right before Sada's death?

There were so many questions... Then he remembered the datacorder. He'd been so caught up in things, he'd completely spaced it - he wasn't being himself at all. He needed to clear his head, and clear it _fast_. Something was going on, and it was time to get back to work.

"Edala, I need you to go find Master Ytalha for me, please, right away. Tell him to meet me in the archives."

Edala rushed off without a word, recognizing that whatever was going through Master Skywalker's head right now, it was serious business. Vhinh quickly made his way to the archives, remembering he'd stashed the datacorder in his belt before exiting his ship.

Once inside the archives, he plugged the datacorder into the main archive database. With Master level privileges he could access virtually anything from here, encrypted data not readable via most holonet signals, including the same records database once kept by the Galactic Peacekeepers themselves.

Based on body scans given to every individual at time of arrest, employment or basically anything which entailed any kind of personal record, taken by one simple pass of an electromagnetic wand, the voice analyzer measured each person's unique vocal signature based on the shape of their vocal cords, nasal cavity, lungs, and many other factors, some varying from species to species. Even if a person changed their voice, the precision data collected would detect nuances not audible to most species, and while even this was only reliable to a certain extent, in many cases actual vocal data had been collected as well, which would then be added to the file. The tool could be indispensable in cases such as this one. If Vhinh could at least narrow down the origin of the voice, it would give him somewhere to start in order to find Nea, the truth about her relationship to Sada Ilaros, and a possible murder suspect.

When he saw, before his eyes, the one result on the voice analyzer, a 99.99% match, it made him instantly regret the last twenty minutes of his life.

* * *

It was dawn on Galiston. A once prosperous world, it had gone through a slow decline under Hutt occupation. As the disease of corruption spread over the world, it began to affect Eulian Tratzel's profits, and that surely would not stand. So he unleashed his private guard, now known by some as the Chrome Guard, to take care of the problem. They hadn't just taken care of the problem - they'd all but cleansed the world of any and all Hutt operations. The people of Galiston were grateful to Tratzel for giving new hope to their lost world; but it was all in the interest of business.

Now, the Hutt cartel, along with their long-time allies, the Tekdaemons, had assembled an army. An army double, if not triple, the size of that which had taken Muunilinst, a dozen years prior. Their goal: to take back Galiston, and force Eulian Tratzel to think twice about ever interfering with cartel business practices again. They would take down Bilendi Center, one of GalaCom's capitols and corporate headquarters, then drive off the defending army, reclaiming in the name of the Hutts what was once theirs. However, this was no normal army - a fact which the cartels were only partly aware of, but would soon fully grasp.

Tratzel had allowed the cartel army to safely touch down on Galiston, completely intentionally. He wanted all to bear witness to his greatest victory thus far; and this was a battle he couldn't lose - he played both sides, after all. His interest, however, lied on one particular outcome; and he had no doubt that it would soon become reality.

The armies gathered on the outskirts of Vivendon, one of Galiston's largest cities, as well as home to Bilendi Center. Appearing over separate horizons, they soon congested the skyline from ground to space, each side boasting the usual assortment of starships, along with an impressive array of foot soldiers. The cartel infantry, numbering over a thousand easily, dwarfed the Chrome Guard by at least three to one; but even this was overkill on the part of the chrome army. One apparent, and potentially critical, difference between the two fleets, however, was Tratzel's lack of capitol ships, while the Hutts and Tekdaemons each sported one.

As the two armies converged to within striking distance, a capitol ship, without warning, took out one of Tratzel's gunships. The battle was on. Rather than engaging the incoming fleet, Tratzel's fighters made a sharp dive downward - toward their own foot soldiers. Once the fighters came within a few meters of the ground, the Chrome Guard began leaping aboard them, grabbing anything that would hold them, as the fighters again soared skyward, each with a new passenger. The riders held tight as the fighters now engaged, or rather bombarded, the cartel fleet, heading straight for them, shooting several down on the way while performing evasive maneuvers, minimizing their own losses.

Continuing onward, they closed in on the cartel fighters, weaving in between them, and, once within jumping distance, the riders leapt onto the cartel fighters, Tratzel's fighters now momentarily turning their fire to the cartel gunships. The riders, now aboard the cartel fighters, unsheathed their weapons of choice - large vibro-swords, made from a lightweight durasteel alloy composite, vibrating at such a frequency that, with their nearly indestructible serrated blades, they could cut through almost anything - and did indeed cut through components of the cartel fighters very well. Impaling some pilots in their own cockpits, severing wings, thrusters, or otherwise disabling the fighters, the chrome guard made short work of the fleet, and were already airborne when their when their own fleet swept by for another pass, intercepting them, having already made scrap out of several gunships. It was a spectacularly choreographed assault that any general would have been proud of.

Meanwhile, on the ground, the remaining Chrome Guard weren't fairing so badly themselves. Quickly picking off a few cartel members from a distance before the barrage of fire rained down on them, they then opted for a more defensive - if only deceptively so - position, each removing their own surprises - a seemingly useless metal bar, that when activated, fanned out to form a large, circular transparisteel shield. Grouping together into a phalanx formation, they mounted a full charge at the cartel army. The cartel opened up on them, but the bolts deflected harmlessly off the shields, and in many cases back toward the thugs themselves. It must have been a terrifying sight, seeing the small army rushing toward them, their eerie masks poised forward, like grim harbingers of their impending doom, seeming to emit blaster fire from their darkened eyes and mouths.

As they approached the cartel, some scattered, some stood their ground; but none would survive. The Chrome Guard cut through them like a giant blade, severing body parts from every angle, then spread out, saturating the mass of cartel soldiers with their own. Like lurching tendrils the Guard continued outward to cut down the stragglers, moving with an ungodly speed. The cartel foot soldiers didn't have a chance. From overhead, the battlefield became spotted with growing pools of deep red. The carnage continued until every cartel soldier lay dead or mortally wounded, the whole thing transpiring in a matter of minutes.

The battle in the sky would not prove to be as much in Tratzel's favor. Having finished off the cartel fighters, Tratzel's fighters and gunships had made short work of the remaining cartel gunships. Taking the fight higher up now, out of the planet's atmosphere, the remaining fleet engaged the cartel capitol ships, who had apparently been venting their frustrations on the city below. A perfect way to spite Eulian Tratzel - if the cartels couldn't have the world, no one would.

They would be forced to redirect the majority of their fire, however, as Tratzel's fleet swooped in, pummeling the Hutt capitol ship with every ounce of firepower they possessed. Effort duely noted, they had already lost. A fleet of this size against one capitol ship may do some damage, and may have a slim chance of taking it down - given a miracle of some sort. But _two _capitol ships; it was game over.

Still, Tratzel's fleet pressed on; how could they not, after such an astounding display? They would be remembered for that alone, but to surrender at this point would forever tarnish that memory. They quickly assembled an impressive assault: the majority of the starfighters and the gunships focusing on the ship's turbolasers, while a smaller group of fighters swarmed the other to provide a distraction. To disable the engines on such a ship would be futile - it didn't need to go anywhere to inflict massive damage - but if they could take out its offense it would be left to either flee the battle or slowly perish.

The tactic proved an effective one, but unfortunately, for a fleet that size it simply wasn't enough. They managed to take out a few of the Hutt ship's turbolasers, but more of the fleet started falling, and once they were down to one gunship, there was no question how it would end.

But then, a slow darkness began to creep upon the landscape; a blanket of night spreading over the city until the morning light gave way to blackness. A solar eclipse, perhaps? It wasn't Galiston's moon, however, but rather a mammoth capital ship that dwarfed those of the cartel - making them appear almost as miniscule as the tiny starfighters did to them.

As all witnesses gazed on in astonishment - and the fact that this was indeed a ship sunk in - many questions came to mind. Where had this behemoth come from? Where would one find enough crew to operate such a vessel? And who could afford to commission such a monstrosity?

The answer to the last question, an obvious one, was confirmed by a horrendously powerful turbolaser bolt that instantly disintegrated the Hutt ship's entire aft section, leaving the remainder of the hull floating in space, virtually useless. Before the crew of the Tekdaemon ship could begin to ready their engines for a hyperspace jump, it, too fell prey to the massive turbolasers. And that was game.

Tratzel's newly completed flaship, _the Omen_, was aptly named; and any being in its presence would agree it could not be ignored. Commissioned roughly a decade before to Kuat-Temkor, its over-the-top turbolasers were designed and fitted separately by Tratzel's own team of engineers, so as not to raise suspicion as to their eventual use. After the events of this day, he would no doubt be justified in possessing such armament.

Currently not even the dwindling Republic navy possessed a ship even close to this size - the giants of old had been done away with, destroyed or disabled, now resting in some ship graveyard, following the Galactic Arms Treaty of nearly a millennium ago, replaced with primarily defense-oriented ships of a more modest size. Though regulations on ship and armament specifications had been lifted a couple hundred years ago - legislation which Darth Sceptaurus may or may not have played some role in - none of this breadth had been commissioned because few had the resources, and there simply wasn't a need in this era of relative peace.

Finding a crew for such a ship - a crew of easily over ten thousand - was difficult, but not impossible. Zabra himself could attest to this, as there were enough out-of-work ex-military to easily commandeer his former capital ship, which had been nothing more than a refurbished antique Republic Star Destroyer purchased second-hand and fitted with functional weaponry.

In _the Omen_'s case, artificial intelligence was an adaquate solution to the crew problem - effectively cutting the live crew requirements in half. Droids didn't need to be trained, they only needed a chip, and the technology and programming were there. Though he realistically could have gone full AI, he retained a sizable crew, as he preferred the hands-on touch.

Much more streamlined and contoured than the conventional capital ships, its flat black armor gave it a frightening appearance, and made it difficult for the naked eye to distinguish until it was too late, a metaphor of Tratzel himself. Two gigantic durasteel-alloy composite extensions jutted from the sides of its fore section, like sharpened pincers that could easily tear through a slow to react capital ship caught in its path.

The Omen.

Overkill? Most certainly, but a status symbol and a tool to ensure Tratzel's presence would _not _be ignored.

As _the Omen_'s giant engines roared to life, carrying it to deep space and restoring daylight to Vivendon, the hushed silence that had fallen over the thousands of civilians gathered in the streets gradually gave way to a joyous uproar. Galiston's liberation from the hands of the cartels had been ensured, once again.

Tratzel was well aware of the dramatic effect of his presentation. He'd orchestrated the entire thing, and relished in the aftermath. Perhaps the city would even name this day in his honor. He had no need for such a meaningless acknowledgement, though; _every _day would soon belong to him.

* * *

"Karta, can I come in, _please_?" came Nars's voice over the com in her personal cabin.

Only silence.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the door raised, and there he stood, looking as if he'd been through war. She didn't look at him, and he slowly trodded in.

Her cabin, the slightly larger of the two, had been converted from part of the pre-existing cabin area, basically dividing it in two. It was a little project they'd done together shortly after becoming partners, Nars's way of making her feel welcome, realizing that a teenage girl needs her privacy. The ship could accommodate a crew of four, so they each had more than enough room. She basically only used it for sleeping anymore, and rare occasions like this. Even when she slept, she left the entryway open most of the time, because it made her feel less lonely.

Nars plopped down on the corner of the bed. "I was a real bantha's ass. I'm sorry, Karta." She looked at him, but didn't say anything. "I should have been more supportive. I know what you've been going through. It just kills me to see you like this. I want to see you happy... before I see you _dead_."

"I want that too," she said weakly. "But it's not that easy."

"Yeah, well...," he paused, then drew a long breath, sitting up a little straighter. "Whatever you need to do, I'm with you."

"Really?"

"Damn right!"

She scooted over and hugged him. "Thank you, Nars. And look, I know it's not easy living with me and my issues sometimes."

"Your _issues_? Are you _kidding_? Karta, you got dealt a really lousy hand - I _know _that. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I'll take everything that comes with you."

"Wow." She gazed at him, smiling warmly. "See, why can't I meet any guys like you?"

"They're out there. Maybe you should just stop looking for a while."

"Maybe, I don't know."

"Well, hey - I might know of a distraction."

Karta looked at him skeptically. "What?"

He took out his reader and handed it to her. A holo of a heavyset Aqualish appeared.

"Uh... he's not really my type," she said, wrinkling her nose.

"No, Karta. That's Eb Zixxon! You know, one of the big spice distributers for the Tekdaemons."

"I _know _who Eb Zixxon is! So, what about him?"

"He's our next bounty," he said, scandalously.

"Are you _nuts_? How's _that _gonna happen?"

"I have a plan," he declared.

* * *

It was Darth Sceptaurus's turn to contact Zabra now; because the Darth Sceptaurus that Zabra the Hutt knew would not be very pleased having lost a sizable force, including ships, to Tratzel's Chrome Guard on Galiston. Of course, Zabra would understand it wasn't about the credits, but about the waste of precious manpower and firepower that could be better used to further their plans of galactic domination.

To the real Darth Sceptaurus, though, it was merely an investment, to insure the continued loyalty of his soon-to-be obsolete partner in crime.

When Zabra's image appeared before him, the Sith lord wasted no time. "Well, Zabra, is that enough to convince you Tratzel isn't worth our time?"

"Not worth our _time_? After this outrage? I'm more inclined to declare all-out war on this man, before he becomes our biggest threat! Have you been watching the holos, seen what he's planning?"

"The _Jedi_ are still our biggest threat, Zabra. They will be until they are no more. If you want war, wage it on them. Once they fall, nothing will stop us from taking the Republic, including Tratzel's meager army."

"The _Jedi_," Zabra jeered, "it's always about the _Jedi_ with you _Sith_, isn't it? Why do I get the feeling you're playing me to serve your own agenda?"

"And do you deny doing the same, Zabra? Have we not the same goals, in the end?" His voice grew slightly impatient.

"I'm not so sure anymore... say I went along with this little idea of yours to eliminate the Jedi. What's to stop you from turning on me, then?"

Darth Sceptaurus fumed. "If I wanted you dead, you would already _be _dead, you _fool_! I just spent valuable resources on your little _blood _feud, does that not prove my loyalty, _after all these years_?! I'm done catering to your pathetic insecurities, Zabra! If you doubt my allegiance, then let us pit our forces against each other. And when our entire empire has been burned down to ashes, leaving only you and I standing...," he lowered his voice, staring malevolently at Zabra's image, "who would you put your credits on, then?"

Zabra visibly faltered, his words now panicked. "So what are you saying, Sceptaurus? You'll give me no kind of insurance policy, reason to believe I truly stand to gain from this in the end?"

"What I'm saying, Zabra - and let me be very clear on this - is that I don't _need _to. We both know who calls the shots, that has never been in question. I've played your little games, but things are about to get _very _real." If Zabra had anything to say to this, he decided against it. "Now, for the time being, _you_ are to choose your investments more carefully, as per our agreement. When the time comes to move forward with our plan, I shall inform you. Until then, realize how fortunate you are that I have given you this opportunity, and how grateful you should be for what I've done for your organization. Do _not _cross me again, Zabra."

Zabra's troubled image disappeared from the holo viewer. Darth Sceptaurus knew that Zabra's frustration grew with each passing year, frustration at having gained no ground on Sceptaurus during their ongoing charade. He knew that if it came down to it - Zabra trying to eliminate him - he'd never be able to, because he wouldn't even know where to look. Even his Tekdaemons knew nothing of his actual whereabouts; no one did. Zabra, on the other hand, would be easy to find, though he kept his location a secret as well. The Hutt only had one identity, so it was just a matter of following the trail.

Playing the accommodating partner to the slug was growing tiresome, and as the end of their business relationship drew near, he decided he just wasn't going to do it anymore. If Zabra tested him, he just may make good on his threats, but quickly and efficiently - leaving the Hutt empire intact - so he could step in and take control of the cartel himself. But that wasn't his agenda, and it would only require more micro-managing, time better spent elsewhere. Right now, he needed to focus on Eulian Tratzel, because he was the key to building his real empire. The empire that would slowly whittle down the Hutt cartel, until there was nothing left to speak of, gaining more power and prestige for the man behind it, all the while the Jedi fading into ambiguity. And when they were nothing more than tiny insects beneath his gargantuan presence - he would simply step on them.


	9. Chapter 9

**-9-**

* * *

Nars's plan didn't quite work out the way he'd expected. Unless, of course, it ended with him and Karta, against a wall in some seedy back alley on Bimissir, unarmed, surrounded by six Tekdaemons, none of them finding any good reason not to kill them on the spot. In that case, his plan had worked out perfectly.

"I'm sorry, Karta," said Nars from the corner of his mouth, all three eyes wide in terror, one turning to face her.

"It's okay, buddy. At least we'll die doing what we love, right?"

"I'm too scared to laugh."

"Don't worry. It'll only hurt for a second."

"Hey, girl," one of the Tekdaemons called. "Why don't you take off your mask so we can see what you look like?"

"Why?" she scoffed. "You're gonna kill me anyway. _Take it off yourself, you piece of Hutt feces!_"

"Good point." The Tekdaemon raised his blaster.

Karta refused to flinch this time. She hoped that when they pulled the helmet off her lifeless body, they saw the bitter, challenging, contemptuous stare she wore. If nothing else, it would kill any sick, twisted fantasy they might have. If a display of the utter disdain she felt for these people was the only mark she could leave, then so be it.

Did she blame Nars for the way things had ended? No, why would she? She'd gone along with it, and he'd only done this to try and quelch this insatiable lust for revenge she had for Tratzel and the Tekdaemons, for all they'd put her through and all they'd taken from her.

Karta and Nars had had a good run. They'd put away more than their fair share of Tekdaemon scum during their long partnership - and she'd found a true friend. At least she could take comfort in that in her final moment.

She didn't really need to, though - because before their eyes came a spinning, luminescent green flash from above, which instantly separated her would-be killer from his blaster hand. No sooner had the whirling light gone back from whence it came, the thug still in momentary shock, than two brown-robed figures descended before them, preceeding even the thug's inevitable, agonizing scream. The five remaining thugs were thrown roughly to the ground before they could even react, not a single blaster fired.

When the two figures turned to face them, Karta instantly recognized one as Vhinh Skywalker, the Jedi she'd had the unfruitful coversation with back at the temple on Fi'ar'la. The other was an older Bothan she'd never seen before.

"Ms. Oblith, Mr. Free'ta," Vhinh greeted them. "Decided to fight this war yourselves, did you?"

Grateful to be alive, Karta still had to get on him about their last meeting. "You didn't leave us much choice, did you, Master Skywalker? How in the cosmos did you even find us, anyway?"

"Bounty hunters aren't too hard to find, for the most part - they're not usually the ones hiding," he smirked. "I've actually been on your trail since shortly after our little meeting."

"Why? Came to berate me some more?"

"I don't know - maybe I should arrest you. I did a little checking up on your story. It seems you had a bit of a juvenile record."

Karta froze, speechless.

"Don't worry, that's not my concern at the moment; I assume you've learned you lesson by now. Besides, something about you tells me you're on the right side."

"So, what, then?" she asked, confused.

"Let's discuss it back on the ship," was his only response.

Aboard the Jedi's shuttle, introductions were made. Karta, anxious to get to the issue at hand, had never removed her helmet, but had raised the visor.

"Listen, Karta," Vhinh said, "I owe you a rather large apology."

Karta mused, "Wow, two apologies in one day. That's more than I got in my entire last relationship." Nars pretended to focus elsewhere, and she playfully swatted his shoulder.

Vhinh went on, "I know I wasn't much help to you last time. I was in a bad place; I'd just lost my padawan. It's no excuse for my unprofessionalism."

Karta felt bad now. "I'm so sorry - I can't imagine how that must feel, the death of someone - "

"No, not like that. He left the temple, of his own accord. I'm sure he's fine, wherever he is - he was an amazing student... and he was like a son to me."

Karta didn't know what to say, and Vhinh didn't expect her to say anything. "Anyway, perhaps I should have put more weight on the knowledge you brought to me. It seems you may have been right about Tratzel's affiliations, and I suspect it goes much deeper than that. I think we may be able to help each other."

"Help each other? Why are you so interested, all of a sudden?"

"Let's just say some new developments have come to light, and Tratzel is now a person of interest."

"Okay... so, what did you have in mind, then?"

"Well... perhaps we should go straight to the source." He raised an eyebrow.

Karta visibly wavered. "Woah - what do you mean, the _source_."

"Tratzel, of course," Master Ytalha put in. "This is now an official Jedi investigation. We must ask questions, must we not?"

"Ask away, but I'm not going anywhere _near _him - unless he's looking down the barrel of my blaster."

"If indeed there is merit to our suspicions, which seems apparent, he will face justice. We will see to that."

Seeing her obvious reservations, Vhinh added, "Karta, look, you don't need to worry - you're with us now, which means we're offering you our protection. You don't have to be afraid anymore. _Nothing _is going to happen to you on _my _chrono."

Still reluctant, having conditioned herself all these years to remain in shadow, she inquired, "But why do you need me there in the first place? If you're just going to ask questions, you can do that without me."

"Yes, but you are our star witness, Ms. Oblith," Master Ytalha responded. "And if indeed you provoked him to conspire to murder, you are of some significance to him. This will be evident by his response."

She clearly found this amusing. "Eulian Tratzel is a master manipulator - I saw him on that show. He knows how to say all the right things, to make people believe what he wants."

"Yeah, but we're Jedi," Vhinh countered. "We can pick up things people aren't even aware of themselves."

Karta mulled the whole thing over. "So I go with you - _without _my mask, and I don't need to worry about leaving with a hole in my head?"

"Those days are over. On my _honor_."

"Well then," she said as she eagerly pulled off her helmet, shaking back her hair. "Come on, Jedi, this girl's been _dying _for a night on the town."

* * *

"You have visitors, sir," came the voice of Eulian Tratzel's droid personal assistant, Eos, as he sat lounging in his personal office at the highest level of GalaCom's corporate headquarters, soon to become a monument to his extensive power and wealth. The droid, humanoid in appearance, had the most advanced programming available, and was the only being in the galaxy that Tratzel trusted with all of his secrets.

"Who?" he inquired.

"Two Jedi, sir, and what look to be two bounty hunters, as well."

"_Jedi?! _I have no business with any Jedi!"

"They say they are here to gather information regarding a murder investigation, sir. They insisted on seeing you."

_Murder investigation. Could it be? No, _he had made sure that all of his bases had been covered. But how, then, were they here? They couldn't even tie him to the Tekdaemons, much less a murder with no trace of his involvement, a body found on an entirely different world, one which he had never even personally sat foot on, at least in his present form. He took a mental inventory of all the elements of the situation, and came to the same determination. He was clean. His curiosity, however, was piqued. He would see them, if only to satisfy this.

"Very well, send them in."

The droid left the room, and in a moment returned, followed by a couple Jedi, a human female and a male Gran, both in bounty hunter garb. The female - she seemed somehow familiar - yet he couldn't place from where. Tratzel sat back in his chair, apparently relaxed as could be, but inside was dissecting the situation. Would these Jedi sense his strength in the Force? He would be using his dark powers to mask his abilities, but he had to exercise caution - obscuring things too much would cause the Jedi to find something amiss. To simply grant them knowledge of his power, this was an option, but not ideal. Sure, it was no crime to be strong in the Force and not be affiliated with the Order, but for one so strong as himself - they would surely keep tabs on him after that - and he didn't need the extra aggravation.

"Greetings," he said, now rising to his feet, bowing his head slightly. "May I offer any of you a drink?"

The Jedi and the Gran politely refused, but the female spoke up. "I'll have a drink," she said pointedly, eyes locked on his in an intense gaze. This one didn't seem to be a fan. Whatever the reason, he was sure he'd find out soon enough. Eos quickly retrieved a bottle of some type along with two glasses, bringing one to Tratzel and one to the female.

"The finest brandy in the known regions. Aged nearly two millennia," Tratzel boasted as he took the glass. Waiting first for him to take a sip, the female then took one herself, never taking her eyes off him.

Pretending not to take notice of her apparent fixation, he addressed the group. "So, to what do I owe this pleasure - oh, I'm sorry, I didn't get your names..."

The younger of the two Jedi answered, "Masters Vhinh Skywalker," indicating himself, "Sae Ytalha, Mr. Nars Free'ta and Ms. Karta Oblith."

_Karta Oblith?_ Where did he know that name from? He would make it the goal of this little meeting to find that out. And the Skywalker - the _very _Skywalker, father to his own prodigy. This would be interesting, to say the least.

A thought occurred to him just then. The Jedi - _this _Jedi, in fact, showing up regarding a murder investigation, right after Sada had paid him a visit. Had she been followed? _Foolish woman - _that _had _to be it - he'd trained her better than that! But how much could they really know? Any crime he'd committed had been done behind closed doors, so they would have to assemble quite the case to have anything substantial on him.

The Skywalker continued, "I regret this isn't a pleasure visit, Mr. Tratzel. We have a few questions to ask you."

"Well, then. Ask away."

The Jedi wasted no time in getting to the point. "Do you know anyone by the name of Sada Ilaros?"

"I can't say that it strikes a chord. Why do you ask?"

"She was found dead on Fi'ar'la yesterday."

"Most unfortunate, indeed... but I fail to see what this has to do with me."

"I would have, too, if not for a peculiar sequence of events. You see, someone made contact with you, less than an hour before Sada's time of death. Someone by the name of Nea. The odd thing was, she was piloting a shuttle registered to Ms. Ilaros."

"Interesting. I see your dilemma, of course, but there are two minor problems with your statement."

"Yes?"

"This... _Nea_ person you mention... no doubt you have questions for her. You must understand, however, I am a very busy man, and I see dozens of beings every day, for various reasons. Do you have a last name? And what would lead you to believe this person did, in fact, have contact with me?"

"A sound clip on a datacorder. Your name came up as a perfect match to the voice in question."

"That is _very _interesting. Now, why exactly am I being recorded, if this is in fact true? You can see how one such as myself may take issue with this."

"Of course. You weren't being recorded, per se. Nea was being tracked, on an unrelated matter. The significance of this information was only realized after the fact. I do have the sound clip, as well, if you'd like to examine it."

"That won't be necessary. It does, however, seem like this _Nea_ would be the key person of interest in this case. Perhaps you should not have let her elude you. I would like nothing more than to help you, but it seems your investigation falls rather short. Unless you can provide me with more information, I'm afraid there isn't much I can do for you...,"

"Well, since you put it that way, Mr. Tratzel... I do have a little more information. Nothing you'll really like hearing... but nothing you don't already know."

"Please, go on...," he said, his voice hinting of sarcasm.

"Mr. Tratzel, what exactly is your involvement with the Tekdaemons?"

"The pathetic hooligans who my Guard has repeatedly thwarted, is that whom you are referring to?"

"Possibly. Then it is rather _odd _that this person, Nea, who came to visit you, was granted entry into an obviously Tekdaemon-controlled sector, a sector which _you _just happened to already _be _in."

He gave a slightly amused laugh at this. "Master Skywalker... that really says nothing, does it? The Republic approached me with good reason. I am a man who makes things happen... who _refuses _to be controlled, especially by common criminals. I go where I please."

"Your visitor seemed to go where she pleased, as well. That implies Tekdaemon ties - which implicates you, as well, by association."

"Well, you certainly are reaching for something, aren't you? Exactly _what_, it's hard to say. I can assure you, however, that my hands are clean, and your efforts would be better spent elsewhere. Now, if you have nothing else..."

"Alright, _hold on_!" the female bounty hunter now interrupted. She had his full attention now. "Does the name _Ayda Hynn _ring any bells? The _late Senator _Ayda Hynn?"

Just then, it came back to him - where he'd seen her before. The early stages of his grand plan, when things had barely begun to come to fruition. That little girl - that little _pest_ - that had jeopardized his carefully laid out plot. _Alive_. He'd thought perhaps, and very likely, that she'd perished on Hethsba, during its tragic 'accident'_._ The one loose end that had concerned him, now, alive and kicking, after all these years - confronting _him_. A very bold move. One of her last, he would ensure. He felt that white-hot rage surge momentarily inside him, but quickly silenced it. However, gauging the reaction of the Jedi, they had picked up on something. _This is no time to lose your temper. This insignificant girl - she has _nothing _on you -merely hearsay. Now, follow through... and close the deal._

"Hmmm, Senator Ayda Hynn... there are so many senators these days, who can keep track of them all. My specialty is more in business than in politics."

"You filthy, stinking..." she began, stalking toward him now, stopping only inches away.

"Karta-," the Gran started.

"_No_," she said, putting her hand up to shush him. "I've been in hiding for over a _decade _because of this man! You remember me now? The one who overheard you, trying to bribe Ms. Hynn? The one you sent the Tekdaemons after only minutes later? Well, I'm done hiding from you! I know you were behind Ayda Hynn's death, and probably Sada Ilaros too - and who _knows _what else - and I'm gonna make sure you go _down _for _all _of it!"

"Miss, you either have me confused with someone else, which is very unlikely, unless you've been living in a space rock for the last decade - or you are highly delusional. I _do _hope you find what you are looking for, but you won't find it here. Perhaps a medic can prescribe something," he smiled slyly.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah! You _evil, slimy _piece of _trash_!" she uttered.

He sensed it had worked - he'd successfully pushed the right buttons, because she was now moving in for a frontal assault - a right cross coming straight for his nose. He would allow her to make contact. It was a good effort, after all, and most men would be susceptible to it. Feeling the impact, he put on his best appalled face, touching his nose to find it dripping fresh blood. Oh, he would have fun with this one, when the time came.

"Alright. I thank you all for your time, but this _meeting _is over," he said in a hurried voice. "Get out of my _sight_, before I make a _lawsuit_ out of this! _Guards, _escort them out!"

Two chrome guard stepped up, but the four were already showing themselves out - two Jedi and one Gran dragging one human female, to be exact. When they had left the room, he stared vindictively after them, speaking to Eos. "I _want _that girl, and I _want _that datacorder. Make it _happen._"

"Yes, sir," the droid replied.


	10. Chapter 10

**-10-**

* * *

Karta, Nars, Masters Ytalha and Skywalker boarded the lift on the 99th floor of Galacom's corporate headquarters in Vivendon. From the lift's transparisteel window, they had a wide view of the cityscape below, and it made Nars woozy.

Vhinh turned to Master Ytalha. "Did you sense it, Master?" Even after all these years, and having received the title of Master himself, Vhinh still sometimes addressed Sae Ytalha in this way. To him, Sae would always be his Master; he still looked to him for guidance, and would, for as long as Master Ytalha lived, which he hoped would yet be a long time.

"I did sense it, my friend - and it disturbed me."

"Wait - _what_?" Karta cut in, still agitated from their confrontation with Tratzel. "You guys are talking about Tratzel, right?"

Ytalha only nodded absently.

Vhinh slightly stroked the bristles along his jawline. "There was something there..."

Karta was getting slightly frustrated. This intangible Jedi talk left her in the dark, and she needed to know what had come of their meeting.

To serve the purpose of responding to both of their queries, Master Ytalha said, "Power. He touches the Force."

"Not in any good way," Karta put in, somewhat sardonically.

"No, Karta, this is serious," Vhinh warned, "Are you _sure_, Master?"

Master Ytalha looked solemn. "There was deception, as if a shroud lifted in that one moment, providing a glimpse of what lie beneath."

"That's not good at all. That could mean - " He didn't want to say it. After the over 2 millennia of relative peace the galaxy had known, Vhinh wasn't ready to face the inevitable return of their greatest nemesis.

"Indeed, it could mean what we have feared, my friend," Ytalha replied, a worrisome look on his face.

"Hey, guys, hello - I'd kinda like to be let in on this big development, too, if you don't mind," Karta said, mildly annoyed.

Vhinh patiently exhaled. "What we're saying, Karta, is that there's a chance Tratzel could be," he lowered his voice now, even though they were alone, "a _Sith _lord."

"Eek!" was Nars's only response, as he hunched down slightly.

A _Sith _lord?! Karta knew of the Sith, only from the history holos, of course, but no one had to explain to her why this was no joke. Then she remembered the invisible hand she'd felt around her neck, only for a brief second, during her first encounter with Eulian Tratzel. And the nightmares. She'd dismissed it as her imagination, a product of the fear she'd felt in that moment causing her mind to play tricks on her. But maybe it hadn't been in her head - and maybe her subconscious had been trying to tell her something through these dreams.

The lift doors opened, and the four stepped into the large lobby, making their way through the transparisteel doors to the outside. It seemed everything in the building was made of transparisteel. Tratzel was not one for modesty, ironic given their current suspicions of him.

Once back on the street, Karta looked at Vhinh seriously. "I think you may be right about Tratzel. When I met him, that first time, I felt something..." Vhinh regarded her quizically. Ignoring this, she urged, "We have to inform the Republic, before they become too involved with him!"

"I doubt it will do any good," Master Ytalha began, "The Republic isn't likely to - "

Before he could finish, four speeder-bikes swooped down from overhead, riders brandishing large vibro-blades, much like those wielded by Tratzel's Chrome Guard. Vhinh and Master Ytalha quickly pushed Nars and Karta out of the way while simultaneously activating their lightsabers, tearing through two of the bikes as they passed. Karta was instantly on a third with her blaster, firing a series of shots at the rider as he fled, Nars still fumbling with his holster.

"Tekdaemons," Vhinh recognized. The two remaining Tekdaemons performed a one-eighty, but before going in for another pass, were joined by a dozen more.

"Crap," Karta griped.

"This way!" called Master Ytalha, waving them into a nearby alley, as the speeder-bikes closed in. They managed to duck in just before the next assault, and the bikes veered off, apparently deciding the narrow alley wouldn't allow for an effective attack.

"They'll be waiting for us on the other side, no doubt," Vhinh said as they pressed through, dodging trash receptacles and scattered debris. When they reached the end, peering out, they could see their speeder, catty-corner from the end of the block - and a horded of mounted Tekdaemons lying in wait.

Taking out her macrobinoculars, Karta made a quick assessment. "Yeah, some of them are strapped."

"How the hell are we gonna get to the speeder? What if they send reinforcements?" Nars asked desperately.

"Yeah, we can't afford to find out," Vhinh agreed.

"I'll give you cover fire. You guys can get Nars across, right?" Karta eyed the two Jedi. They both nodded. "Do it, then. I'll follow after you." It seemed like the most logical plan, at this point, and Karta didn't wait for confirmation, peaking out of the alley to fire a string of shots at the riders. "Go!"

The three dashed into the middle of the street, heading directly for the speeder, the two Jedi deflecting blaster bolts and Nars firing wildly in the general direction of the Tekdaemons as he hurried along. Karta managed to tag one of the riders, who fell sideways off the bike as his mount kept going straight into a wall, sending up a ball of fire.

They were halfway to the speeder, and Master Ytalha had to yank Nars back by the collar, just as one rider zoomed by, swinging a vibroblade that would have abruptly ended his trip. The Jedi then gave him an insistant push forward, and they continued on their way.

"Karta, come on!" Vhinh called back to her as Master Ytalha and Nars closed in on the speeder. Continuing to fire shot after shot, Karta stepped out of the alley and hurried toward him. Slowed down by her leg injury from a few days prior, she had to dive to the ground to avoid the bike about to smash into her. Nars was in, and now a few of the Tekdaemons turned their fire to the speeder, Master Ytalha doing his best to deflect it. Nars answered by sneaking in a few shots of his own from behind the covered speeder's door.

The remaining Tekdaemons began circling Vhinh and Karta, effectively cutting them off from each other. They quickly swarmed the two, blaster bolts and blades coming at them from all sides. Karta got clipped on her shoulder by a stray bolt, and cried out, but kept up the counterfire, aiming for the group in general. Vhinh tried to get to her, to re-direct some of the fire, but the constant stream of riders between the two made this difficult. He decided that in order to get through them, he would have to become one of them.

Clipping his lightsaber back onto his belt for the time being, he waited for an opening, then leapt onto the back of one of the bikes, directly behind the rider. Rather than try to wrestle the controls from the now struggling Tekdaemon, he simply yanked off his helmet. This left him vulnerable to a well-placed elbow to the temple, which of course the Jedi executed perfectly, causing the rider to slump in the seat. A quick push was all it took to send the rider hurling to the ground, Vhinh now in control of the bike.

Activating his lightsaber once again, he swooped in, clearing a path to Karta, slowing just enough on his approach for her to jump aboard as he reared the bike forward, back into the fray. Signaling to the others to go on ahead, Vhinh and Karta became an imposing force, lightsaber and blaster cutting through the riders, now clearly on the defensive. Add Vhinh's enhanced reflexes and they were nearly untouchable.

Sae wasted no time pushing past Nars into the driver's seat of the speeder, and they were off as another flurry of unanswered blaster fire rained down on them, a few bolts catching their tail end as they began their ascent.

Providing interference for the speeder, Vhinh and Karta followed behind, cutting Tekdaemons down left and right. Nars fired shots from out the passenger window of the speeder, which did little more than serve as a distraction.

Now only half a dozen Tekdaemons remained, and Vhinh and Karta were preparing to cut that number down, until they saw the reinforcements arrive - a dozen more speeder bikes and two speeder tanks, loaded with heavy artillery; they weren't playing.

Karta exhaled sharply. "Where the frag are all these Teks coming from? I thought this was a safe sector!"

"Guess that's what Tratzel _wants _people to think. He probably keeps a few close-by at all times," Vhinh answered. Seeing the new additions to the party, he said, "We're too vulnerable out here, we'll be better off inside the speeder."

He gunned the engine, quickly catching up to the speeder. Privy to the situation, Nars opened the passenger door of the speeder to let them in as Vhinh hovered alongside.

"Alright, go ahead," he said to Karta, and she obliged, climbing into the open door. As Vhinh was preparing to let go of the bike's controls and climb aboard himself, a volley of blaster bolts told him otherwise. He was forced to pull back and execute a hard lean to his right, Sae swerving in the opposite direction.

By now, they were a few hundred feet off the ground, and the cityscape loomed under them, making Nars feel slightly nauseous. Seeing him clutch his stomach, turning away from the window, Karta quipped, "Well, stop looking down!"

With constant fire forcing them to widen the gap between them, the Jedi knew they had to act fast. Reading each other's thoughts, they simultaneously executed a steep dive, Vhinh abandoning his ride with a wide leap, latching on to the bottom door frame of the speeder, the bike plummeting to the streets below.

No sooner had they made the connection than the horde was on them, firing at the Jedi dangling for dear life. The evasive manuevers Master Ytalha was forced to perform made it difficult for Vhinh to pull himself up, and he swayed from side to side with the speeder's movements like a rag doll.

"Here!" Karta called to him, lending her hand. He grabbed it, and Karta pulled, her legs planted against the door frame and one arm clinging to the seat of the speeder. Using all her force, the pressure on her injured leg made her wince, but it was enough to get Vhinh safely into the speeder.

"Thanks," he said.

"Don't mention it," she replied, biting through the new surge of pain.

With only one target now, the Tekdaemons concentrated their fire on the speeder. A military issue vehicle, it was equipped with basic shields, which easily absorbed most of the blaster fire. But when the speeder tanks unleashed fire from their cannons, it rocked the smaller vehicle, rapidly bringing down the integrity of the shields.

"We're already at 60 percent," Karta informed.

"Noted," Sae responded. "Perhaps now is the time to hide."

"And how exactly are we going to do that?" she inquired.

"By making them think we're not."

Karta rolled her eyes. These Jedi riddles were getting old fast.

Performing a zig-zag pattern followed by a sharp left, Sae guided the speeder into a narrow tunnel, built into one of the many high-rise buildings. Too narrow for the tanks, only two of the riders followed them into the tunnel, the others veering off, apparently to intercept them upon their exit.

"Take out those bikes - quickly!" Master Ytalha shouted, almost frantically.

Nars and Karta complied, firing from out the windows, as Vhinh leaned further out, deflecting any blaster bolts within reach. When fire filled the tunnel where the Tekdaemons had been, Sae visibly relaxed. As they neared the halfway point of the tunnel, he slowed the speeder, coming to an abrupt stop.

"What are we doing?" Karta asked, confused.

"You'll see," Vhinh answered with a sly grin. The second they stopped, another speeder, identical to their own, took off in front of them. Karta hadn't noticed it on their approach, too focused on the riders behind them. Apparently it had been lying in wait. It zoomed ahead, making its way toward the end of the tunnel.

"Who the hell was that?" Karta asked, even more confused.

"No one. Droid speeder," Vhinh said.

Suddenly, Karta had a pretty good idea of what was going on.

* * *

This would most certainly mean a promotion for Vigo Amadynius. The girl - for whatever reason, his bosses preferred her alive; the others, it didn't really matter. If none of them survived, well... As long as they didn't make it off-planet, he'd done his job. Having survived the first assault, he was ready to end this.

Maybe he'd finally be put in charge of his own world. His bosses had paid a hefty amount in legal fees to spring him after the raid on Muunilinst. He'd only served three years in a Republic prison, and he'd pulled the trigger, ending that old Shistavenen man's life. Apparently someone else had taken the fall for that.

Now he led small task forces, waiting to be called on to go to whatever system, usually in the corporate sectors, blaster ready. It was actually a pretty kooshy job - most of the time his crew would just hang out at a local cantina, never even called on. His only rule to his men - if you were too drunk to go to work when called, you better fake it, or you'd be facing the business end of his blaster. That tended to sober guys up really quick. When this job was over, they'd have a drink for the men they'd lost.

The Jedi speeder emerged from the tunnel.

"Alright, guys, take 'em down," Vigo said over his helmet's built-in com. "Shoot to disintegrate."

The bikes entered a wide formation, a tank on each wing, and opened up on the speeder. It tried to sway from side to side, but there was fire everywhere, and nowhere to go. Its already weakened shields finally gave way, and one cannon shot later it was a smoldering inferno, only small chunks of debris falling away, nothing large enough to be significantly alive.

This time Vigo spoke into a separate com strapped to his shoulder. "Eos, this is _Hawk-bat_. We got 'em. No survivors."

"Excellent," came an even-toned voice from the other end.

Switching off the com, he again addressed his crew. "Alright, boys - first round's on me."

...

"Mr. Tratzel," a holo of an older man, dressed in aristocratic attire, appeared before him.

"Ah, Chief of State Pelderon, to what do I owe such an honor?" Eulian Tratzel bowed to the image.

"Regarding the topic of our last discussion. I believe we should re-open the dialogue."

"That comes as a bit of a surprise, my lord, considering we were at odds to reach an agreement last time."

"Yes, well... in light of your most recent victory, I believe the Republic, and its people, may be ready to consider such an arrangement. But please, meet me at 500 Republica, and we'll discuss the matter further."

"It shall be my pleasure, my lord. I look forward to reaching an agreement. I'll bring a case of my finest champagne to celebrate our new arrangement."

"A bit premature, wouldn't you say?"

"I can be a very reasonable man, my lord. I promise you will not be disappointed."

"Very well, then. I shall see you there, Eulian."

As Eulian Tratzel stepped away from the holo viewer, and to the oversized transparisteel window of his high-rise office suite, he gazed upon the vast city below, and then the infinite stars above. Soon, it would all be his.

* * *

Notes: Alright guys, again thank you for your continued reading. Hope you are enjoying so far, I guess if not you wouldn't keep reading. Sorry it's been slow, but I'll have the last chapter of Act Two up at the end of next week, and then on to Act Three, which will be even bigger. At that point I will start posting the chapters more regularly, so keep reading!


	11. Chapter 11

**-11-**

* * *

It was dusk on Fi'ar'la. The pink sky gradually gave way to the blue, then the star-dotted black above. Ryar, one of the world's three moons, shone its pale light on the Jedi temple below. From an open shuttle on the landing pad, four lone figures emerged.

"I still can't believe it - faking our own death? How long's that gonna last?" Karta quipped.

Master Ytalha looked at her, amused. "A temporary fix, yes. But a necessary contingency plan, wouldn't you agree?

"Well, it got those Teks of our tails - for _now_, at least."

"Tomorrow morning, I shall have audience with the council, and propose we concentrate our efforts on bringing down their organization, and furthering our investigation of Eulian Tratzel."

"Even if that's possible, you'd still have the Hutts to deal with - they're practically one and the same now."

"But we have seen Tratzel's affinity for the Tekdaemons. Whatever link they share may yet be revealed, and bring us closer to uncovering his secret."

"Let's hope. I'll help in any way I can - you know I want Tratzel as much as you - probably more."

"You two are welcome to stay as long as you want," Vhinh offered. "In fact, I'd recommend it - once Tratzel finds any of us alive, we'll all be on the hot list. Besides, you're important to our investigation."

Karta shot him a skeptical look. "You'll say anything to get a girl to stay the night, won't you?"

Vhinh rolled his eyes, but gave a wry smile.

"Well, as tempting as that is, I'm kind of anxious to get back to NineHundred - what about you, buddy?" She looked to Nars, who smiled and nodded. "We'll be in touch, though..."

"_NineHundred _is your _ship_, right?" Vhinh asked, and Karta nodded. "Registered in Mr. Free'ta's name?"

A look of dread came over Nars, and he sunk to his knees.

Karta was quick to comfort him, knowing exactly the issue at hand. The Tekdaemons would no doubt be keeping tabs on his ship, as well. If it left the spaceport, they would be hot on its trail. "Oh, Nars..." He looked like he'd lost his best friend - well, his other best friend; she felt so bad for him.

"Don't worry, we'll figure it out, eventually. In the meantime, we'll make sure no one turns it into scrap," Vhinh promised.

With everything now fully sinking in, Karta was starting to feel a little irked. "You know, it seems like we're not really any better off than before. Thanks to your little plan, we're _still _on the run, _plus _we're out one ship."

"And you'd both be _dead _if we hadn't shown up on Bimissir when we did," Vhinh retorted.

"True, but we'd have never ended up on Bimissir if you'd listened to me in the first place."

Vhinh looked once again regretful. "I know." Then he gave her a half-hearted smile. "You're not gonna let me live that one down, are you?"

Karta wasn't done, though. "I don't know, _Vhinh_. There's other stuff, too... you tell me my days of running are over, but you have this little _fake our own death _plan that I'm completely in the dark about - it almost seems like once you took an interest in Tratzel, you just used me to further your own purposes."

"I'm sorry if it feels that way, Karta. I told you you'd be safe as long as you're with us - and I stand by that. As far as our back-up plan, we didn't know what we'd be up against, and if it involved the Tekdaemons and a man as powerful as Eulian Tratzel, it was better to be on the safe side, which I think you'll agree was a good call."

Vhinh was getting slightly defensive, and Sae raised a hand. "I believe we can _all _agree we now share a common goal. Ms. Oblith, with your show of bravery we have obtained vital clues regarding Tratzel's character, and we honor you for that. In the Jedi Order, you have made a powerful ally, and I predict the secrets we uncover together will be more crucial than any of us could have anticipated."

Karta looked thoughtful. "Man. Well, I suppose, since you put it that way..."

"I _am _sorry I didn't listen to you the first time, Karta," Vhinh added. "And I promise we weren't using you - I wanted to help _you _as much as I wanted _your _help."

Karta studied him. "Oh, alright. I guess you're forgiven. You seem like a decent enough guy."

Vhinh regarded her for a moment. "I could tell there was something special about you when we met. I was wrapped up in my own world then, but I still saw it. Now I see what it is."

Karta raised an eyebrow, folding her arms. "_Really_. What's that?"

"You have a good heart - _and _you have spirit. Definitely someone I want on my side." He gave her a meaningful look, offering his hand. "Friends?"

She flashed a conceding smile. "Friends." Karta met his gaze with a handshake that lasted just a little too long.

Feeling eyes on them, Vhinh attempted to break the awkward moment. "Mr. Free'ta?" He offered his hand to Nars, who rose to meet it. "Sorry about your ship. We'll get it back - I promise."

Nars nodded. "I guess if Nine doesn't remember me by then, it wouldn't be an _entirely_ bad thing." He looked to Karta, who gave him a sympathetic smile.

Vhinh's eyes went to Karta, then back to Nars. "That offer still stands..."

Nars and Karta looked at each other. "I guess I'm game if you are, buddy. We don't really have anywhere else to go at the moment," she said. Nars shrugged an affirmative.

"I will show you to your rooms," Sae offered. "There is much to deliberate on tomorrow."

Vhinh bid them goodnight, seeing them off. Many thoughts were swimming through his head right now. He couldn't deny he was attracted to Karta. She was definitely special, and she'd awakened something in him he'd thought long dead. Only this time, it seemed more rational - more real.

It wasn't the time to be getting involved with someone in this way, however. They were on the verge of uncovering something huge - and potentially catastrophic, threatening the security of the very Republic they'd fought to protect.

He had to ready himself; he felt the calling of his ancestors, and somehow knew he would play a key role in the events transpiring around them - he may have already, in fact. Perhaps the Force had willed it - his meeting with Karta, leading to their discovery of Tratzel's hidden power. In light of this, he felt some guilt - he took pleasure in the fact that he may now have the opportunity to get to know Karta a little better, even if their thoughts and time would be otherwise consumed with more worldly affairs. Still, he smiled at the prospect.

It quickly faded, though, as he thought back to the nature of their first meeting - what had been going through his head. _Jhanopellis._ More than anything, he hoped the boy would find peace. They would continue searching for him. He feared, though, that if Jhan didn't want to be found, he wouldn't be. Vhinh still felt partially responsible. He'd waited to deploy Jhan, when he had already worked so hard, and was obviously above his level. It had no doubt been a rude awakening to the galaxy they now lived in - and Jhan always took things to heart. He could only imagine how the boy was dealing with something of this magnitude.

Would they uncover the forces at work behind the gradual decline of the Order? If Tratzel was indeed a Sith lord in disguise, could he be the culprit, somehow? And how did Nea fit into it all - Nea, the mother of his own son?

He'd sensed that the message he'd sent to the boy had been received, but he still worried. Was the boy safe with Nea, given her apparent connection to Eulian Tratzel? Vhinh hoped against hope that wherever Koren was, he was doing okay.

* * *

Having emerged from his ravaged quarters only moments earlier, for the first time since learning of his mother's death, Koren stepped onto the bloodstained mat on the training room floor. Taking the training saber handed to him by one of the Guard, he faced his would-be opponent. Two other guard, who had just finished a short round, began to clear out to allow them the floor.

"Stay," Koren commanded. The burning stare he shot their way jarred them to attention. He assumed his ready stance, the three guards hesitantly doing the same. In a flash, he was on them, all three quickly forced to defend against his multiple strikes, coming at them in rapid succession.

"Don't let him do that to you! There is only _one_ of him! _Hit_ him!" Darth Sceptaurus yelled from the side of the training area.

In between blocking the boy's blurred series of swings, the guard all in turn came at the boy with their own attacks, which he either dodged or blocked and then answered with more of his own.

But there _was _only one of him, so it was just a matter of time. Finally one guard was able to sneak in and make contact, a hard knock to his temple - then they were on him, as the pressure sunk in and he prepared for the forthcoming wave of searing pain. Familiar by now with Sceptaurus's training methods, they did not go easy on him, and seized the moment to inflict more damage, attacking from all sides. Muffled groans could be heard as he slowly sunk to the ground, the guard not letting up.

Just when it seemed as if he would be beaten into submission, he let out one final, emphatic yawp, forcefully rising to his feet as all three guards were thrown back by a glowing violet blaze, seemingly emerging from his entire body.

_Sith lighning? _Sceptaurus looked on in wonderment. _In a trainee so young? _This was unheard of, as far as he'd known!

Koren wasn't finished, however. Retrieving one of the guard's fallen training sabers, he hurled it at them, kneecapping the guard and knocking him off his feet, then drew it immediately back to his waiting grasp, but not before he'd sent his own saber flying toward another guard, doing the same, all in an unseen flash. Then, leaping high into the air, he caught the other saber on its way back, and, descending on the third guard, brought both sabers across the guard's neck in a scissor-like motion that would have decapitated him had it been real, but would instead leave him writhing in pain. Before the other two guard could rise back up, a saber met each of their skulls in a perfectly synchronized attack.

Turning his back now to his fallen opponents, Koren caught both sabers blindly, then let them passively fall to the ground at his feet as he stalked away. This training session had not been his idea, but he had proven his point.

"Splendid, boy. _Splendid_," Sceptaurus praised, perhaps the first time he'd done so in the entire course of the boy's training. "_That _is what I want to see more of. Your mother would have been very proud." A cruel smile played on his lips.

Koren, who normally would have been overjoyed to hear any positive words directly from the mouth of his father, or, rather, _surrogate _father, only continued on to his quarters. He just wanted to be alone right now; but tomorrow was another day, another day of training that would bring him closer to avenging his mother's death - killing his real father, slowly and painfully.

Darth Sceptaurus allowed him the liberty, this time. The boy would soon be ready. He would lead the Chrome Guard one day, bringing down system after system, while Sceptaurus watched his empire expand with each passing day.

True, Koren had been struck in training - his technique still needed work, but the raw potential and power he had displayed just now more than made up for his lack of experience. These would only grow, as would his own skill. Soon, he would have no match among the Jedi, possibly not even in Sceptaurus himself.

It made no difference, however, as Darth Sceptaurus had an insurance policy. As long as he lived, the Guard would answer to him first and foremost - it was infused into their very consciousness, along with other things. If anyone made a move on Sceptaurus - even Koren, the guard would take them out without hesitation. So, as Koren grew, Sceptaurus would take care to always have a few of the guard by his side, in case the boy ever had any delusions of grandeur. He could spare plenty, as new clones were being incubated on a daily basis. The accelerated growth was programmed to halt at ten years, leaving a perfectly healthy adult specimen with a normal human rate of decay.

While having the same trainers as the boy, the guard did have an advantage with their accelerated growth, but the fact that Koren's dark side power had been so carefully nurtured was now beginning to more than make up for this. Soon, Koren would be training the guard himself, along with some of the more experienced first wave of clones.

Darth Sceptaurus's army was growing before his eyes, becoming self-sufficient and numbering already in the tens of thousands. Within another decade, it would near a million, with no end in sight, as Eulian Tratzel's immeasurable wealth was growing as well. The quality of training would improve, too, as the personal attention possible with more available trainers would ensure each guard received a proper, and harsh, training experience, unlike the generic massed sessions they began with when it had only been Sada and himself in charge.

Now, with his new political affiliation, he would have license to grow his army to outrageous proportions, without fear of Republic inquisition, and deploy them where he saw fit. They would take care of his Hutt problem, leaving Darth Sceptaurus and his Tekdaemons unaccountable, and eventually, they'd take the Jedi, as well. By this time, he would have gained more political power and leverage, but ultimately he wouldn't need the Republic's consent anymore, as he could simply impose his will on them, strongarming them and appointing himself to the highest position in the Republic, the Chief of State, then finally declaring it the New Empire in his name.

He marveled at his brilliance. Building, from the ground up, a new Sith empire, and ensuring that he, and only he, would be its sole ruler. It was only a matter of time, now. This was truly the dawn of a new Dark Age.

* * *

"Do you have any idea what time it is, Karta?" Nars asked through a yawn, after she showed up at the door of the small room he occupied at the Jedi temple, waking him up.

"I do, actually. I haven't slept this whole time," she said, obviously frustrated. He stepped aside to let her in. "I was hoping you could keep me company for a little bit - I'll leave you alone after that," she promised.

He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. Nars knew Karta hated being alone, probably because of the couple days she'd spent drifting out in open space after being driven off her home planet. "So, what's up, kid?"

Karta still liked it when he called her that, even though she was now in her late twenties. It made her feel like someone was looking out for her. _Some bad-ass bounty hunter _I _am, _she mused. "I don't know... don't really know what to make of today - pretty crazy."

"Yeah," he agreed. "Do you think Tratzel is really a Sith lord?" He'd hesitated to mention it, but figured it was out in the open, now, so it didn't make much difference.

"Who knows. He's something, though... and it's nothing good."

"Yeah."

Karta looked contemplative, and wondered if she should say what she was thinking. "So... what do you think of our new _Jedi_ friends?" When she saw Nars's 'I knew it' expression, she instantly wished she hadn't.

"Well, I know what _you _think of '_Master Skywalker'_." He said the name with mock fanfare.

"Shut up, Nars! I didn't mean like _that_!" She couldn't conceal the slight pink hue appearing on her face, though.

He stood up, now, in an exaggerated heroic pose. "Oh, Karta, don't worry, I'll protect you! I'll be your big, strong, Jedi!" He said this with the same mocking tone. Then, grabbing a sheet off the bed, he threw it over himself like a robe and began performing simulated lightsaber combat. He looked ridiculous, and Karta had to laugh.

"Okay, look, _even if _I thought he was an okay guy, and maybe kind of cute, I stopped _looking_, remember?"

"And it worked, didn't it?" he urged.

"It doesn't even matter, Nars, because all I can think about right now is bringing Tratzel down. Until that happens, I don't think I'm ready to get involved with anyone - it's just too much, ya know?"

"Yeah, I hear ya. Know what I think, though?"

"What?"

"I think we're gonna be witness to some pretty big stuff, either way. Skywalker and Ytalha seem pretty intent on bringing down the Tekdaemons. We may see either the end of Tratzel or the end of the Jedi."

Karta shuddered. "Yeah, I don't want to think about that right now."

"Me neither."

The two kept talking, though, about more light-hearted topics like which resort world they would go to when this was all over, and eventually, Karta stopped responding. She lay passed out on the bed, so Nars grabbed a blanket and pillow and made himself comfortable on the floor by her side.

"Good night, Karta."

* * *

Okay! And that was the last and final chapter of Act Two.

Sorry for the wait, I was on vacation getting some sun, good food and good drink, but I'm back in full force!

Thank you guys for your continued support, and I hope you're liking the story so far. Act Three is coming very soon, and I promise I'll start posting the chapters more regularly again.

I don't have cover art for Act Three yet, but meh. Will see you again with the first chapter of **Tainted Ties - Act Three: Lost Son **in about a week!


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